Anxiety
by Alice I
Summary: Can Charlie, with the help of David and Larry, master his fears in time to save his brother from a killer that has targeted the FBI? Can he now save both of them from a mob hit? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **A couple of folks have asked about this piece and if I was ever going to start posting it. I almost gave up on it completely but Bixie came to the rescue. She helped me to regain some focus and has been wonderfully helpful for the first three chapters. I would like to publically thank her for her time and efforts to make this story come back to life. I had litterally thrown it out and had not planned on continuing with it.  
It will take at least a week to get chapter two up. I am going into the hospital tomorrow evening and the following morning the doctors will induce labor. At my age going more than a week past due is just not acceptable:)  
I will do my very best to give you all a quality tale, but be warned I am still working out the details. Feedback is very much appreciated. It is what keeps writers of Fan Fiction motivated to continue writing. You are all very wonderful here so I have no fears.

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**Anxiety  
****Chapter One**

Charlie and Larry were sitting at a picnic table on this bright afternoon. The board on the table between them held elegant ivory and ebony pieces distributed across it in a seemingly random, yet carefully thought out and executed pattern. Warmed by the rays of the California sun, the smooth, polished surfaces reflected the shadowy crosshatch pattern of the canopy of leaves above them. Larry watched his young friend while Charlie gazed off into the distance toward the math building. His eyes were troubled as they always seemed to be lately and Larry sighed. "Do I even need to ask what's bothering you, Charles?"

Charlie didn't acknowledge the fact that Larry had just spoken. "Charles?"

Charlie seemed to come out of his reverie and looked at Larry "Humm?"

"Now that you have joined us here in this dimension, would you care to tell me what has you so preoccupied?"

Charlie frowned and looked down at the chess board. He didn't even remember the last move either of them had made. "I'm sorry, Larry, my head just isn't in this game right now."

"I can see that, Charles, so where exactly is it?"

Charlie sighed and looked up. Larry followed his gaze but could see nothing except the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves of the large maple tree they were sitting under. "It's been a long week, Larry. This case that Don is working on right now has been difficult for everyone."

Larry rubbed his hand across his face and began to nervously scratch his head. He hated seeing Charlie so upset but he understood why the young mathematician was so disturbed. "Has there been any progress in finding the person responsible for these deaths?" The _'FBI Killer'_ as the press had dubbed the person responsible for the deaths of several FBI agents was all over the news and Larry knew that Charlie was trying to help Don's team solve the case. Other than that, Larry knew only as much as the next person who read the paper or watched the news. Charlie had been particularly quiet about his involvement in this particular case but Larry could see how it was affecting him.

Charlie sighed again, more deeply. "No, and the stress on Don is escalating. Not so much from his superiors but from himself. Three agents killed in as many weeks and two of them were his friends, Larry. These were people that he has known since his days at the academy."

Charlie shuddered involuntarily as the images of the crime scene photos flashed across his mind's eye. These men were not just killed, they had been butchered. Their hearts had essentially beensurgically removed from their chests butthe most disturbing aspect of this mutilation was the fact that the coroner had now confirmed for the third time that each of these men was not only alive, but conscious when their attacker cut open their chests to remove their hearts. There were several crushed ammonium pills at each of the crime scenes. This was evidence that the attacker was reviving his victims if they passed out from the pain of having their chest wall incised and their sternum cut and spread so that the heart could be removed with a scalpel. Larry knew nothing of these details, nor would Charlie tell him. The first reason was due to the fact that this information was classified, but more importantly, Larry had no need to be reviled by such gruesome details. His concern for Charlie's involvement in his brother's FBI work had diminished over the past year especially after he began helping Charlie on some of his calculations for the bureau and Charlie did not want to bring back that adversarial aspect to their discussions.

The only clue that the FBI had to identifying the killer involved a series of cryptic numbers carved post-mortem into the bodies of the dead agents. So far, no one had been successful in interpreting what those numbers meant, including Charlie… and the strain of being unable to break the code coupled with his underlying fear that Don could be the next victim showed on the young professor's face.

Charlie stood up to stretch his legs, having completely lost all interest in their game. "I don't think Don could bear going to another funeral..." Charlie's voice trailed off and his face drained of color. Larry turned and looked in the direction that Charlie was staring and felt his stomach do a flip flop. David Sinclair was walking across the quad, right toward them. The confident quick gait that Charlie had come to associate with David was noticeably lacking. He was walking as if dreading every step or as though it were almost a rehearsed march, like the way you would walk down the aisle at a funeral. Charlie's hands began to shake. David wore a grim expression on his handsome face, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. David showed no signs of salutation, there was no greeting smile, yet it was clear that he had seen Charlie. This only served to deepen the terror that began to fill Charlie's entire body, which was now beginning to shake, along with his hands.

Larry stood up and had taken a position right beside his friend, offering his support in the only way he could. As David came to a stop in front of Charlie he said, in a deep yet quiet tone "Charlie, I need you to come with me."

"David... What... Wh Where?"

David put a hand out and gently touched Charlie's shoulder. He could feel the younger man shaking and he felt his resolve slip just a little. His next words sounded slightly husky as if he were struggling to maintain control. "Charlie, you need to come with me."

A single tear slid down David's face from behind his sunglasses and Charlie clenched his hands against his body. His heart was hammering in his chest while his blood ran cold and he had the sensation that his heart were being torn from him the way it had been from the victims. "No, No David, It can't be! _Please_ tell me he's OK!" Charlie's voice took on a pleading tone as it broke with emotion.

David reached over and held both of Charlie's shoulders and whispered, "Charlie, it's time to go now."

Charlie's legs gave out and he dropped to his knees shaking uncontrollably. His breath came in quick ragged pants. He couldn't breath and was gasping for air but his lungs couldn't or wouldn't respond. His head started spinning and he felt nauseas as a strangled cry escaped his lips filled with ardent grief and seemed to come from his very soul. "No, NOOO!"

Charlie couldn't see anything. He tried to think about an equation; any equation, a lecture, his father's chili recipe; anything to ground his spinning senses. Suddenly he saw flashes of memories display before his eyes. He saw Don dressed in his baseball uniform hitting a home run. He saw Don laughing and playing a spirited game of one on one with him in the back yard. He saw Don, standing stoically at a funeral while one of his friends, a fellow agent, was being slowly lowered into the ground. The coffin was deep mahogany and as Charlie's eyes moved from Don's stony features to the coffin, the lid opened. What he saw sent a wave of intense agony through him as if someone had impaled him with a red hot iron. The agent lying in the coffin was his big brother. "NOOOO! Donnie!" He tried to reach for Don but the lid of the coffin closed as the mahogany box slowly disappeared into the earth. "**NOOOOOO!**"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - **Hello everyone. Well we had a healthy baby boy Tuesday October 18th. It has been a long week and many sleepless nights. Baby and mom are doing well and I am trying to fit in the writing in between his naps and mine **:-)  
**I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for all the reviews. It is very much appreciated.

**Chapter Two**

Suddenly Charlie felt himself being shaken by strong hands on his upper arms. "Charlie! Charlie!"

He opened his eyes and looked into his father's worried face.

Charlie just stared into his father's eyes, confused by his presence. David had just been standing there. It was David who had come to tell him that his big brother…  
…that Don was gone. The panic surged up in him again and his sweat covered body shook convulsively as fresh tears welled up and spilled down his pale cheeks.

"He's gone! Oh God, dad, I've lost him and… and..."

"Charlie!" Alan gave his son another shake to try and reach him. "It was just a dream, Charlie! It was just a dream son."

Charlie took a moment to register his father's words, and the panic slowly began to fade from his eyes. He looked around the familiar confines of his bedroom… not the east quad at Cal Sci, but his home. His mind still fogged with sleep worked feverishly to sort out what his senses were telling him. Gone was the bright light of the afternoon sun. He was in his dark room that was now illuminated by the overhead lamp in the hall way. He was kneeling on the hard wooden floor of his bedroom with his father crouched in front of him holding his arms tightly. His throat was scratchy from screaming, and perspiration trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes. He glanced over at the digital display on his bedside alarm. Blinking sweat and tears out of his eyes, he saw that it was one forty-five in the morning.

"It was just a dream" he said, aloud in a uncertain voice. It had been a dream, only a dream… so why was he still trembling?

Alan sighed with relief. He son was finally waking up and calming down. "Yes, Charlie, it was just a dream." Alan watched his youngest carefully. Tears still lingered in his eyes, but the nearly feral look had left them. "Come on; let's get you off this floor." Alan said, as he helped Charlie to stand up, but felt his concern grow again as Charlie wobbled precariously.

He sat down on the edge of his bed still trembling. He was awake now and knew that it had just been a dream, so why was the dread, the fear, not releasing its hold over him? The image of Don, lying peacefully in that coffin as it was being lowered into the ground, flashed across his mind, and the feeling of barely contained panic began to grow again. Then an image of his brother as one of the victims in the crime scene photos surfaced. Don lay there, his skin a deathly pallor of grey, his eyes opened wide and his face contorted in a grimmace of pain and terror. Charlie envisioned his brother's chest pulled apart exposing a gaping hole where his heart once rested. As that depiction burned in his brain, Charlie seized his head tangling his fingers in his hair nearly pulling out handfuls of it. "No. No! NO!" He shuddered violently, rocking himself, trying desperately to dispel the image.

Alan sat next to Charlie and wrapped his arms around his son. Charlie had never been this affected by a nightmare, even as a child. "Charlie, it's all right, son. It really _was_ just a dream."

Charlie could still feel his pulse pounding in his ears. His chest felt tight as though a large strong band was squeezing the air out of him. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his stomach that was threatening to release all of its contents, and squeezed his eyes shut trying to control his breathing that was now coming in ragged gasps.

Alan was at a complete loss as to what to say or do at this point. Even though Charlie hadn't shared what the dream was, based on the hysterical words that he had uttered as he pulled out of the nightmare, Alan strongly suspected that it was about Don. The case that his sons were working on scared him to death. It seemed that every time he turned around another FBI agent had been murdered.

Alan did not know the particulars of the case. Both Don and Charlie had mutually decided to keep the gruesome details classified from him. Don had been angry when he found Charlie looking at the crime scene photographs. Charlie had reacted just as Don had expected he would, and barely made it to the bathroom in the hall outside Don's office before vomiting. It had taken him nearly thirty minutes to calm down and weakly apologize to his brother for his poking around in the files when Don had asked him not to.

Alan brushed one hand across his son's sweaty forehead to move the hair out of his eyes, but also to inconspicuously check for a fever. "What was the dream? Maybe if you talk about it, it will help."

Charlie gave him an apprehensive look. The last thing that Charlie could bring himself to do was to relive the horror he had just envisioned. He was still fighting to calm himself and Alan felt ready to either call for an ambulance for the apparent asthma attack Charlie was having, or at the very least call Don, just to reassure his youngest son that his older brother was indeed alright. "Charlie, it was a dream, a nightmare, but it's over now."

"I know. I... it's just that it _felt_ so real." Charlie said, in as controlled a voice as he could manage. He shook himself mentally. _'This is ridiculous. Don is fine. Nothing happened to him and I'm acting like an idiot.' _Charlie got up shakily and headed for the door.

"Charlie?" Alan stood and put a hand on Charlie's arm. He was still trembling. "Are you all right? Where are you going?"

Charlie stopped, but he didn't turn around. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to stop the tears, and he didn't want to upset his father even further. "I'm all right, Dad. Like you said, it was just a bad dream. I'm gonna take a shower."

That was actually not a bad idea, Alan thought. Charlie was drenched with sweat and that could be partially what was causing his son to keep trembling. "I'll get some clean pajamas and put them on the vanity for you."

Charlie nodded and quickly moved to the bathroom, but made sure to keep his back turned toward the door fiddling with the shower curtain when his father entered. As soon as Alan had put the clean clothes on the sink then left, Charlie stepped over to close and lock the door. After turning on the shower he just sat down on the edge of the tub clutching his middle, trying to make his body stop shaking. He couldn't figure out what was happening to him. His heart was racing and his breathing was coming in short almost painful wheezes. "Stop this!" he hissed, in a low voice. "You're being ridiculous. Don is fine!" He forced his hands away from his stomach, then stood up and looked at himself critically in the mirror. "I'm not so sure about you, however," he muttered to his reflection.

Charlie pulled his damp pajamas off his body and dropped them into the laundry basket by the door with a grunt of disgust, then stepped into the tub and stuck his head under the flow of the shower. After a while the heat and massaging effects of the water helped to soothe his twitching muscles and the steam began to ease his labored breathing. Once he was breathing normally again and his chest had loosened up he got out, toweled himself off and got dressed in the dry pajamas finding that he did feel much better.

As Charlie emerged from the steam filled bathroom, toweling his hair, he jerked a bit, startled to see his father coming up the stairs. "I made some hot chocolate. Come on down and have a cup."

"Dad, you're still up?" Charlie knew that he had been in the shower for a long time because the hot water had started to turn lukewarm by the time he had finished.

Alan smiled and said, "Of course. Come on now, before the chocolate gets cold." He turned and went down the stairs with Charlie following a few steps behind him.

The two men sat down at the kitchen table and Charlie wrapped his hands around a steaming mug. He looked at his father and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry I woke you, Dad. I..." Charlie shook his head and realized that he was actually embarrassed by his childish behavior. "I feel like a kid. I mean, I'm kind of old for night terrors." Charlie smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Alan took a moment before he spoke, but rather than match Charlie's attempt to keep things light, he spoke with a somber look and a serious tone. "First of all, Charlie, I am not upset about being wakened. I am your father and no matter how old you get, you will always be my child. That's the way it is with parents and their children. Secondly, that was no ordinary nightmare. Charlie, I was thinking about calling an ambulance. You may not be aware of this, son, but you were not at all well. You were having so much trouble breathing that I considered going up to the attic to try and find that old nebulizer."

Charlie frowned and looked at his father. He had all but forgotten that as a young child he had had severe asthma.

"I could see your pulse in the veins in your neck." Alan continued undeterred by his son's frown. "You were thumping along at well over 100 beats per minute. You were dead pale and clammy and I honestly thought for a moment that you were going to pass out."

Charlie just sat there looking at his father, stunned. He knew that his pulse had gone up very high, but he hadn't realized how obvious what was happening to him had been. After his shower he had calmed down and was not as concerned about the over-reaction he had had to the dream; but now he starting feeling a creeping sensation inch up his spine. Was there actually something wrong with him? Charlie could see that his father was serious, and was still concerned even though Charlie felt almost normal again, which in itself disturbed him more than anything else. He decided that honesty was the best policy in this instance.

"Dad, I don't know why I reacted the way I did. The dream was…" He shuddered, thinking about it. "I was at Cal Sci playing chess with Larry. David showed up to tell me that…"

Charlie's face paled slightly as he felt himself being pulled back to the memory of the nightmare. He didn't want to tell his father about his dream; he didn't even want to think about it himself. They had both nursed their worst fears since some maniac had started brutally killing federal agents a few weeks ago.

"…to tell you that your brother had been killed." Alan finished for him.

Charlie just nodded. "I guess I'm more worried about Don than I thought. It's been difficult going to two funerals in the space of one week. I just can't help thinking that it _could_ have been Don lying in one of those caskets."

Alan reached across the table and took hold of Charlie's hand. "I worry about him too. I have pictured the same thing in the darkest hours of the night. To tell you the truth, this is the most I have ever hated his job. All we can do is to be there for each other."

Charlie still didn't know why he had had such a strong physical reaction to his fears, though. The fact that he had experienced an all but hysterical asthma attack troubled him more than he wanted to admit. Charlie had only been three or four years old when he was plagued with asthma so he didn't have very clear memories of that time in his life, but he _did_ remember the horrible feeling of not being able to breathe. That remembered sensation frightened him on a primal level that made his skin crawl and he instinctively took a deep breath just to make sure he could.

Alan watched as the emotions played across Charlie's expressive eyes. He recognized the fear that once tore his heart open when his young child fought for breath as a small child. He gave Charlie's hand a squeeze to draw his attention and said, "I know that you help Donnie on a lot of his cases, Charlie, but I think that maybe you should stay away from this one."

Charlie froze and looked directly into his father's face. He saw the concern reflected in his father's wise and caring eyes and his instinct was to do what his father asked. There was a stronger urgency pushing him, however, and he knew that he had to help his brother and the bureau solve this case. "Dad, you just said that we have to be there for each other. With my help, they can catch this guy; hopefully before he kills someone else. Don't you see, dad, if there was ever a case that I _have_ to help with, it's this one!"


	3. Chapter 3

**11/9/05  
This chapter has been revised. There is an extra bit of dialogue between Alan and Charlie and some minor changes at Charlie's office between Larry/David/Charlie

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A/N**

Hi all,  
Sorry about the wait. My new little one is keeping quite a schedule. He is two weeks old today and he sleep great during the day time ;-) Unfortunately that makes night time a bit of an uphill battle. Boy this is kind of difficult when you are in your forties. Ahh well, I'm sure he will figure out a good sleeping pattern in the coming weeks. _(One can hope anyway he he he)_  
This is the last chapter that Bixie was able to help on and I want to once again thank her for her assistance. She was a wonderful Beta. After this however, I am on my own. Please enjoy and feel free to speculate! Really, speculating helps get the muse into high gear!**

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**Chapter Three**

Charlie got up late for school the next morning, and was slightly irritated with his father for not waking him.

Alan, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, set it down and looked at Charlie. "You needed the sleep, Charlie. That was obvious when your alarm went off for nearly forty minutes and you were completely oblivious to it. You're done with classes for the semester anyway, aren't you?"

Alan could see that Charlie was gearing up to argue with him about turning off his alarm clock without waking him when he stopped short with a surprised look on his face. "Forty minutes, really?" Charlie conceded the fact when his father just looked at him with raised eyebrows over the tops of his reading glasses.

Alan folded the paper and stood up, moving over to the stove. "You know, Charlie, I still think that you should step back from this case right now. I didn't call Don last night because you were so upset about that prospect, but I know for a fact that Donnie would not want you to continue with this if he knew how it was affecting you." Alan pulled out a fry pan and the leftover pancake batter from the refrigerator.

Charlie stopped packing up his school satchel and looked up at his father. "Look Dad, I'm a big boy you know. I can decide what is right for me without your permission or Don's for that matter. One of these days you are going to realize that I am not a little kid anymore. I have consulted for the FBI, the NSA and Homeland Security. Don't you think I have been exposed to things far worse than some deranged killer going after federal agents?" Charlie's voice rose as he spoke, venting his frustration over the way this case was going. He was still a little embarrassed about his reaction from the previous night and his father's admonishment brought that into sharp focus.

"I am not saying that you aren't a grown man, Charlie, but what ever consulting you have done in the past hasn't involved dealing with someone who may come after your own family. You know as well as I do how personally you take your work. Remember a few months back, how you felt when you guessed wrong about where that dirty bomb would go off? I'm just saying that if this guy kills another agent before you boys figure out who is doing this, I could easily see you blaming yourself."

Charlie shook his head and sighed. He didn't want to admit that his father made a valid point. All of his life he was used to being right and when his calculations didn't yield a correct answer, he felt affronted by the math. It was little consolation to him that in the case of the bomber, his father knew of specific variables that Charlie didn't and so had chosen the correct location. It only mattered that his numbers had failed him. This time if his math didn't come through, it could very well cost his own brother his life. That was an aspect of this particular case that had disturbed Charlie more than any other consulting job he had ever dealt with. This was too close to home, too personal for him to be wrong.

Alan pulled out a plate and set it on the table for the pancakes he had on the stove. "Have some breakfast before you get going for the day." Charlie picked up a piece of cold toast from the counter and grabbed his school satchel causing his father to frown at him. "Charlie, that's not breakfast!"

Charlie forced a smile on his face through his lingering irritation. "Sorry, no time, Dad, I want to get some work done this morning so that I can go see Don this afternoon."

Alan knew that Charlie needed to see his brother and didn't argue the point with him. No matter how much he may dispute Charlie's decision, he was as stubborn as his older brother and when he had made up his mind about something it was next to impossible to convince him otherwise. Alan was aware that Charlie's reaction to his nightmare had embarrassed him and didn't want Don to know about it. He felt a little guilty about using that to try and convince Charlie to stop working on this case, because the last thing Charlie ever wanted was to let his older brother to see that kind of weakness so overtly in him. What Alan didn't realize was that Charlie did not want to give Don another reason to chew him out about looking at the crime scene photographs. Charlie knew that Don would assume that his dream was prompted by the graphic nature of those images.

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The ride to Cal Sci felt good to Charlie even though his muscles were incredibly sore. As he chained up his bike outside the Math building he wondered why he was aching so much. He felt as though he had done a hard workout, or had gone on a long steep hike with Larry. When Charlie entered his office and looked at the blackboard, however, all his thoughts about painful muscles vanished, as he threw himself into the task of interpreting the numbers carved into the dead agent's bodies. 

The first agent, Robert Franklin, found three weeks ago, had the numbers 298437 carved into the left side of his chest. The second agent, Daniel Edwards was a friend of Don's. The numbers found on his body were 126984. The third agent, Daryl Bliss, had the numbers 920534. Charlie sat down staring at the strings of numbers, trying to see a pattern to them. He was certain that there was one. This was a message from the killer, if he could only find the key. His mind quickly sifted through the hundreds of different ciphers he was familiar with and none seemed to apply to these cryptic strings. Each number had only six digits and that must be the answer or at least part of the answer, but try as he might he could find no parallels between these numbers.

After nearly two hours of twisting, combining, separating and itemizing the number strings he set that train of thought aside and turned his attention to finding a pattern to the victims. He thumbed through pages of notes that Don had provided him. He had what looked like every possible connection that these agents had with one another in the four boxes of papers on his desk. He took into account the approximate locations of their disappearances, and the locations that they were found. He factored in where they worked and lived, as well as the places that each agent might go during off hours. He had asked Don for any numerical tags associated with each man including dates of birth, social security numbers, badge numbers, case file numbers for the last few years, addresses, account numbers, even graduation dates from the academy. He wanted every number that was ever connected to the victims.

Don had nearly laughed at Charlie when he made this request. "Are you serious, Charlie? Do you have any idea what that would take?"

In a rare and uncharacteristic display, Charlie turned on Don with intense anger in his voice. "Those numbers that that son of a bitch carved into their chests mean something, Don! Those men are connected by those numbers!" Charlie's voice rose in volume and the tone took on an almost frantic pitch. "I need to find out what those numbers are, what they mean! I need to KNOW that they don't have anything to do with you!" Charlie was panting and shaking and Don put both hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, buddy, I get you, okay? I'll get you the information that you need, but you have to promise me that you will take it easy. Charlie, you can't help us if you get yourself worked up like this. Look, you have to try and set those images aside, Charlie. What was done to those men was unimaginably barbaric, but we have to see beyond that so that we can find this guy and stop him."

That was two days ago and Charlie was beginning to think that Don may have been right. He had lost his objectivity when he had seen what the killer had done to his victims. The nightmare last night and his reaction to it were proof of that. Charlie laid out dozens of pages on each of the men, and took a deep calming breath before beginning to write on the blackboard.

Larry entered Charlie's office after a knock on the door, but the young man was oblivious, lost in his train of thought. He stood at the blackboard staring at the complex equations written out before him with an intense look of concentration, his right hand holding a piece of chalk that hovered uncertainly over a string of numbers. After a moment more, Charlie tossed the chalk down on the thin rail at the base of the board and sat down heavily in his chair.

Larry frowned at his friend. "Charles?"

Charlie didn't look at Larry but he had obviously heard him. "There isn't enough data here to make a workable algorithm! Damn it! I have to make this work _without_ more data, Larry."

Charlie rubbed his face in his hands and noticed that they were shaking slightly. He didn't want to think about his hands so he clasped them together lacing his fingers in what he hoped looked like a natural motion and turned to Larry, giving him his full attention. Larry had a concerned look on his face, which further irritated Charlie though he didn't let it show.

"Can I assume that you don't want more data because this is for the FBI..." Larry waved his hand at the board. "…and more data would mean..."

"...more dead agents." Charlie finished wearily.

"I see. Charles, is it possible that there is existing data that you haven't factored into this equation?"

Charlie frowned slightly in thought. Perhaps there _was_ something he was missing. "I suppose that's possible. I need the actual case files on the last victim to be certain I have all the variables. Don said that it should be released today so I'm going to see him this afternoon, but there really shouldn't be anything in there that I haven't already got."

'_That file will probably just contain more gruesome details that will make it harder for me to concentrate.'_ Charlie thought miserably to himself.

Larry perched on the corner of the desk looking at his friend. Charlie looked tired and oddly pale, with a sheen of perspiration across his brow. "Charles, you are assuming that you have been given all of the pertinent facts. You know as well as I do that what appears unimportant will most likely be that one piece of information that will allow your equation to fall into place."

Larry shifted an old and weathered looking box in his hands, drawing Charlie's attention to it. The familiar mahogany case held Larry's chess set, and Charlie found himself staring at that box, its deep color faded from use, yet still so much the same as another box that he had recently seen. He was pulled back to reality by Larry's voice. "Charles. You need to take a break from this. There is a table open under the maple tree on the east quad. Perhaps a game of chess to clear the cobwebs might do you some good."

Charlie glanced down at the case that Larry held; in his dream, they had been playing chess beneath that maple tree. His face grew a little paler, and the perspiration on his forehead shimmered in the late morning sun. Charlie stood up and moved back to the blackboard picking up the discarded chalk. "Ah, gee," he said, in a tight voice that was slightly too high "you know, Larry, I think I'll pass on the whole chess idea for now."

Larry took a few steps to one side and considered how strongly he wanted to push the young man, when Charlie turned toward a sound at the door and his face completely drained of color. Larry turned around abruptly to see what Charlie was looking at and saw Agent David Sinclair standing in the doorway of Charlie's office holding a manila folder.

Charlie suddenly felt himself transported back into the nightmare as the panic that had overwhelmed him last night descended on him like an anvil. His body began shaking and he grabbed his chest, gasping for breath while his legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

David dropped the folder he was holding and moved so quickly to Charlie that Larry stepped back, startled by the agent's sudden movement. David took hold of Charlie's upper arms to steady him as he peered into the young man's eyes, and instantly recognized what he saw there.

"Charlie! It's okay, you have to relax and slow your breathing down." David commanded in a calm but strong and confident voice.

Charlie tried to answer him but his throat had closed up. The feeling of having a tight band around his chest had returned, and Charlie instinctively clutched the front of his shirt until his knuckles went white. Larry picked up the phone to dial 911 fearing that his friend was having a heart attack, but David saw the movement.

"Professor! Get some cold water for him."

Larry stopped dialing with an uncertain look on his face. David's tone was authoritative yet calm and his gut instinct was to obey the agent but Charlie looked as though he were dying. "I… I must call for help!" Larry protested. "He's having a heart attack!"

David shook his head, then moved one of his hands to the back of Charlie's neck and began to massage the twitching muscles. "No, Larry! He is not having a heart attack."

Charlie looked up into David's face at the mention of a heart attack. He felt like he was going to die; as a matter of fact he was almost certain that Larry was right. He couldn't speak, and his chest was painfully tight.

David could see the fear increase in the young mathematician and locked eyes with him. "Charlie, this is an anxiety attack. You are NOT going to die. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Although he still couldn't answer David, some of the fear began to fade from Charlie's eyes as David's calm assurance began to filter through him.

"Now listen to me carefully, Charlie. You are hyperventilating right now. You must slow down your breathing. I want you to take a slow deep breath while you count to four in your head. Then hold it for a count of four."

Charlie had dropped his gaze to the floor and caught sight of the folder that David had dropped. The pages it contained spilled out on the floor along with the crime scene photos. Agent Daryl Bliss had short dark hair and deep brown eyes. He looked very similar to Don and in his state of panic Charlie's mind saw his older brother in those pictures. All thoughts of breathing slowly disappeared and he began gasping again.

"Charlie, look at me!"

Charlie's head snapped up.

"Breathe with me, Charlie..."

Charlie tried to take in a slow breath as David had instructed, but it was difficult. His eyes slid back to the pages scattered next to the folder on the floor. David took Charlie's face in both hands and turned his head so that they were looking at each other. Charlie couldn't hear David speaking over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears but could see that he was telling Charlie to breath. He ended up taking in a quick breath and trying to hold it.

"You're getting there, Charlie. Hold your breath for a count of four… Good, now let it out slowly."

Charlie tried to do as David instructed but his breath exploded out of his body and he sucked in another lungful of air. David continued to walk Charlie through the breathing exercise, keeping one hand holding Charlie's face toward him while the other moved again to his neck massaging the taught muscles. As Charlie began to calm down and follow the breathing instructions a little better David glanced at Larry, who was still holding the telephone receiver in his hand, frozen to the spot watching as the agent successfully calmed his colleague.

"Larry! Water!" he ordered.

Larry looked startled for a second then put the phone down and darted out of the office. David's attention was back on Charlie before Larry even made it to the door.

"Charlie, it's okay. What you are feeling won't hurt you. Just keep breathing."

By the time Larry returned with a bottle of water from the refrigerator in the staff lounge, David had helped Charlie over to the short couch in the far corner of his office. He looked much better now. He was breathing almost normally again and some of the color had returned to his face. Charlie gratefully accepted the water from Larry as he squatted down in front of the younger man.

"Charles, you scared the bageebiz out of me." He turned his gaze on David and said, "Agent Sinclair, how did you know that Charles was having an anxiety attack?"

David smiled slightly. "My sister used to have these attacks regularly, a few years back. I am very familiar with them and the calming exercises used to get an acute attack under control." David turned to Charlie and saw that he was still trembling slightly. "Charlie, how long have these been happening to you?"

Charlie gave the two men an embarrassed look. "This is the second time. The first was last night. I dreamed that you came here to tell me that Don…"

Charlie stopped and looked directly at David and said, "You _cannot_ tell Don about this. David, please promise me that you won't say anything to him."

David shook his head in protest, but before he could say anything Charlie continued.

"I only reacted this way because of a dream I had last night." David looked on interested but did not show signs that he was about to change his mind. "Look, in my dream I was playing chess with Larry, which he was just asking me to do, and you turned up to tell me that Don had been murdered. David, when I turned around as saw you standing there I over-reacted. It wouldn't have happened if the circumstances had been different."

David put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Don is the agent in charge of this case. He needs to know if there is a problem with one of his consultants. I know why you don't want him to know. Those photos really upset you, Charlie. Hell, they scared the crap out of me, and I'm used to seeing things like that."

David heaved a big sigh and continued, "Charlie, all of that aside, Don is your brother, and he worries about you. Tell me this; if Don had a panic attack like you did just now, would you want to know about it? This is obviously effecting you strongly enough that it is impairing your work." David paused for a moment not really wanting to say what he needed to. "Charlie, I have to tell him. From what I just saw this case is affecting you badly and your results could be unreliable."

The look of hurt that came over Charlie's face at that accusation was difficult for David. He didn't like saying these things to Charlie. "Charlie, look, man, I am not trying to impugn your work. I have complete respect for you; you do realize that, don't you?"

Charlie nodded and looked down at the floor. A part of him that he didn't want to listen to knew that David was right. If he screwed this up and another agent died it would be his fault, but if David didn't tell Don, the agent in charge of the case, then it would be David's fault as well.

Larry was looking from one man to the other. "If I may ask, what are these photos that you are referring to?"

Larry glanced over to the folder that still lay strewn across the floor. One of the photographs was partially visible and drew the physicist's attention. David saw this and got up quickly to retrieve the folder and its contents.

"Dr. Fleinhardt, I can't really discuss this with you. Suffice it to say that the crime scene photographs depicted how brutal these murders have been. We are dealing with a true psychopath here." David placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Charlie, as much as I want your help with this case, maybe you should take a pass on this one."

Charlie shook his head and spoke to the floor. "I can't do that, David. As much as you and Don are worried about this case affecting me, you must understand that I have to help to solve this. Don, or you, or Megan could be next." Charlie looked up at David then, imploring him to understand. "David, it's like I told my father. If there was one case I have to help on, it's this one."

Larry raised his hand to get David's attention. "If I might offer a suggestion? I do not need to know the details of this case or these murders, and frankly I am fairly certain that I do not want to; however, I can help keep Charlie on track. Perhaps if I work with him you will feel more comfortable with his results and whether or not they are skewed by emotion."

David looked at Larry for a moment before answering. "Don is the agent in charge, not me. I'm not sure I have the authority to bring you in on this, Larry. I know that Don has used you in the past to help Charlie…" David stood up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, Charlie, I won't say anything to Don yet about this but you must understand that if circumstances change or if Don asks me out right how you are doing with this, I won't lie to him."

He turned to Larry and said, "Professor Fleinhardt, help Charlie any way you can but I am not giving you clearance to the details of this case. Charlie, is that understood?" he added looking pointedly at Charlie.

"I understand David. Thanks for… well, thanks."

David came back and sat down next to Charlie. "Look, I have some materials at home that I'll drop off for you to look through. Anxiety attacks can be damn frightening and it takes practice to deal with them. It's probably just this case. It's got all of us wound pretty tightly. Just remember, Charlie that no one has ever died from a panic attack. They are pretty unpleasant, but not harmful. You can think your way out of them, and if there is one thing I know you can do better than anyone, its _thinking_."


	4. Chapter 4

**12-1-05****- Edited for name of the victim in ****Boston** **. Sorry I got my notes mixed up while writing and realized that the name I originally had for the first victim **_**(Alex Barnes) **_**was no longer his name. It is supposed to be Michael Carter - That name fits my research where Alex Barnes did not.**

**A/N -** I no longer have my most excellent Beta, Bixie, so I had to go over this myself. If I have misspelled something it is because spell checker didn't catch it and I apologize for any mistakes right now.  
I am trying to shoot for a post every Monday. There is a lot to do with the baby and then of course I actually like to sleep once in a while during the day when the baby is sleeping **;-)**  
For anyone who feels that I am not portraying the characters appropriately, I must say I disagree. Try not to jump to conclusions about Charlie in this story. He is not a wuss and this will be evident as the story plays out. I don't mind constructive criticism at all, as a matter of fact I actually appreciate it, but you have to at least give the story enough time/chapters to play out a little before deciding that it sucks.  
For those who do like this story thank you most sincerely for your comments and support and without further adieu:  
Please enjoy chapter four. **:-)**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Don and Megan were sitting in the video conference room talking with the Director of the Boston field office when David arrived. Seeing the grim expressions on both of their faces he didn't hesitate to enter and sit down while the Director was talking.

"We have handled this as an isolated case up until now. Now that this is a serial case, I am sending you the files on Agent Carter's murder. The copies will be arriving by fax in a few minutes and duplicates of the original files will be overnighted to you today. Agent Eppes, I would like to be kept current on your progress."

"Of course, Director Goldstein."

Megan pulled some files toward her and said, "Chicago and Baltimore are in the same position Director. Their files are being sent as well. We have to put together our case files and the analysis by our consultant as well as all of the relevant case information from the other field offices affected, then we'll make sure that copies are forwarded to you and Directors Johnson and Devlin."

"That would be greatly appreciated Agent Reid." Director Goldstein drew in a deep breath. He looked very tired and he took a moment before continuing. "Michael Carter was a good agent, as I am sure is the case with the agents killed in L.A. I want you to know that, even though Agent Carter was murdered prior to the deaths out there in LA, my office will not attempt to extradite from a state with the death penalty. Just find this bastard!"

Don smiled slightly at that. He knew as well as anyone that Boston had the right to prosecute this killer first, but Massachusetts doesn't have the death penalty where California, Illinois and Maryland do. "We'll keep in touch Director."

With that Don ended the call and turned to David. "It looks like we are going to have more data for Charlie. Agents in Boston, Chicago and Baltimore have also been murdered. In each of these areas there was only one victim so the field offices were handling the cases on a stand-alone basis. David, I want to you get on the wire to all of the field offices throughout the country and find out if this guy has visited other areas. Once we have the files on the other victims we can run a comparison between them for common background, but so far what we have is that they were all FBI agents."

Megan sat with a contemplative look on her face. "We should check other field offices for murders outside the FBI. I'll contact NSA, CIA and Homeland Security. We didn't know about the other Bureau murders until now, so perhaps it isn't only the FBI that has been targeted."

Don nodded to her. "That's good thinking. I'm just worried that if our killer is moving from state to state killing agents as he goes, then we really need to catch him before he leaves the LA area and moves on."

"Why would there be only one victim in the other three field offices when we have several victims here in LA?"

Don scrubbed his hand down his face. He looked very tired and the frustration he was feeling over finding that there were now six confirmed victims rather than three showed clearly in his face. "That's a good question David. Maybe when Megan checks the other departments we might find that there were more victims in the other states."

David stepped over to the fax machine as copies of the Boston case file began printing out. "Do you want me to get these over to Charlie?"

"No, I'll take them to him when we have the files from Baltimore and Chicago. He is not going to be happy to find out he has more data to work with, but maybe he will be able to get somewhere with it." Don turned and looked at David, "Had he made any headway when you dropped off the Bliss file?"

David looked down at the fax machine as he answered. "Not yet, Don. Professor Fleinhart was with him when I got there and asked about helping Charlie with the numbers." He looked up at Don with uncertainty in his eyes. "I told Charlie that the details of this case were confidential but that Larry could work with him on the decryption. I hope I didn't overstep my authority there."

Don frowned slightly. Something in David's voice and his posture told Don that there was more that David wanted to say, but was holding back. "That's ok David, I was going to suggest that to Charlie anyway. Larry has always been a good sounding board for him."

Megan had been watching the interchange between the two men and picked up on the unspoken questions between them so she excused herself to get to work on the inter-agency search for more victims.

Once Megan had closed the conference room door behind her, Don stepped over to David and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Is there something else that you wanted to say David?"

The younger agent tensed up at that question but he smiled at Don. "No. I was just a little unsure about giving Larry clearance to work with Charlie on this."

Don wasn't buying it. He had known David for nearly two years now and could read him very well. He had felt his shoulder muscles tighten at the question and he was sure that David knew something that he didn't want to have to tell Don and he was pretty sure it was about Charlie.

Don knew that this case was getting to his brother in a way that other cases hadn't. His outburst the other day was evidence of that. Charlie had never publicly lost his cool with Don that way. It was true that over the years they had had some knock down drag out arguments and even got into a physical fight over a girl in their senior year of high school, but even then Charlie had never resorted to using loud vulgarities.

_'Those numbers that that son of a bitch carved into their chests mean something, Don!'_

Charlie's words shouted in anger floated to the surface of Don's mind for the hundredth time. "David, Charlie is having a tough time with this isn't he?"

Don could almost feel the resigned slump to his partner's posture. He knew that David wouldn't lie to him if he was asked something outright.

"Don, this case is getting to everyone and now it turns out that this guy has been working his way across the country in a killing spree. It doesn't really surprise you that Charlie is feeling the pressure to find an answer quickly to this case does it?"

That certainly made sense, but David was being evasive. He hadn't directly answered the question. Don was concerned about his brother and how this case was affecting him. Charlie had once accused him of being detached and he had been right. It was a necessary survival technique in the type of profession that he worked. Never-the-less, Don had to admit that seeing what had been done to those men was pretty gruesome even for an emotionally detached professional. As the agent in charge, Don needed to make sure that all the people working on this case were at their best. As much as he didn't want to betray some sort of trust that David had with Charlie, he also needed to know if there was a problem.

Don stepped in front of David so that he couldn't look away without being obvious and asked, "Is Charlie all right with this, David?"

David knew that the jig was up and that he couldn't keep Don in the dark about what was happening with the younger man. He glanced back at the door to make sure it was closed before sitting down at the conference table and folding his hands in front of him.

"Charlie is having some problems with this case. Last night he had a nightmare. In it, I came to Cal Sci to tell him that you had been killed. Today he and Larry were talking about the numbers concerning this case when I turned up with Daryl's file and he…  
…overreacted."

Don felt his concern for Charlie increase a notch. "Overreacted how?"

He couldn't beat around the bush any longer and replied flatly, "He had an anxiety attack, Don."

Don looked startled by this news then even more concerned than he had a moment ago. He had never seen anyone have an anxiety attack but he knew that they could be very intense. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine, but the circumstances were very similar to his dream. He and Larry were on campus talking about these killings and then I show up. Don, it was like his dream had become a reality. He's worried about you, and me and Megan. He wants to figure out what those numbers mean before this guy can kill anyone else. Look, I suggested that he take a pass on this case but he adamantly refused. I guess your dad suggested the same thing to him last night after he had the nightmare but he insists that if there ever was a case he had to help on it's this one."

David sighed but looked Don directly in the eyes before continuing. "Charlie asked me not to say anything to you and I said that I wouldn't unless you asked me directly. That's when Larry suggested that he help keep Charlie on track with his calculations so that his results are reliable."

Don didn't say anything for a moment. He knew that with Charlie working on this case they would solve it faster than without his help and he really wanted to catch this guy. Two of his friends had been brutally murdered and he knew two of the other four agents killed, from his days at the academy. He also knew that when Charlie got wrapped up in something he had a tendency to forget to take care of himself. The fact that Charlie was now experiencing anxiety attacks over what this killer was doing to his victims warred with Don's need to have Charlie's help.

"Thank you for telling me about this, David. I am going to need to talk with Charlie about this case and how it's affecting him, but I won't let him know that you said anything to me about it. When I give him the case files on the other three victims we'll see how he takes it. Frankly I have been a little concerned since his outburst the other day."

There was a knock at the door before Megan peeked her head in. "Don, Merrick wants to talk to everyone."

Don got wearily to his feet and followed Megan out of the conference room to the bull pen. Every agent in the division had crammed into the area, sitting on desks and leaning against the walls. Don found himself slightly irritated by this interruption in his team's work and hoped that this wasn't going to be either a bitch session, or worse, a pep talk.

Assistant Director Merrick waited until everyone had settled before addressing the gathered agents. "Director Donaldson has spoken with Directors Goldstein, Johnson and Devlin from Boston, Chicago and Baltimore. Due to the nature of the imminent danger that all agents in the LA area face in the wake of these killings, no agent is to travel alone from this point forward. Now, Director Donaldson understands that you all have private lives but until this killer is caught, he has requested that agents pair up for twenty four hour stretches, even when going home."

There was loud murmuring at this suggestion. "I understand that it will be inconvenient for you to suddenly have housemates, but thus far this killer has not attacked anyone who was in the company of another agent."

The looks on many of the faces around the bull pen told Don enough. His people were not crazy about this suggestion but they could understand why this precaution was necessary. "All right people, you heard him. We need to watch each others backs, so pick your partners and let's get back to work and find this guy."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N **– This chapter is unbetaed as was chapter four, so please forgive grammatical errors. I have only just finished it.  
I would like to thank all of the folks who took a moment to review this story. Your reviews and comments make my day. I have used some of the constructive and even the not-so-_constructive_ criticisms to revamp chapter three.  
I am still working on getting a good dialogue between Don and David. Hopefully this chapter is a little more fluid than the last one in that respect.  
Enjoy  
Alice I

**Chapter Five**

By the end of the day the investigation had netted no new results except for the fact that there were no other agent killings that the team was unaware of and that no other government agencies seem to be involved as targets. There was one notable difference however. The agent killed in Boston, Michael Carter, had two sets of numbers carved into his chest rather than one.

David, who was pairing up with Don stood looking over Carter's file and spoke under his breath to himself. "I wonder what Charlie will make of this?"

Don looked over at the file David was holding and realized what he was referring to. He reached over the back of his chair and grabbed his jacket saying, "I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that Carter is the first agent killed. What if these numbers are some kind of numerical roadmap leading to the next intended victim?"

"The problem is we don't know what map to look at." David said off handedly. He noticed that Don had a far away look on his face. "What is it?"

"A road map! David what if those numbers refer to actual locations on a map?" He dropped his jacket down in the chair and moved quickly over to the large map of the LA area on the wall of the bull pen. "Look, on every map there are numerical markers for grid locations right?" He pointed to the dots signifying where each agent was found. "Daryl was found in the Lauren Park Observatory. The map grid coordinates for that area are 14E and 17J, what are the numbers in his file? Danny Edwards was killed before Daryl. What are those numbers?"

David looked through the files and pulled out the pertinent information. "Daniel Edwards had the numbers 126629 and Daryl had 920534. There isn't a match there Don, and besides the map grids would change from map to map depending on the cartographer and the scale of the map, not to mention the fact that our victims all have six numbers to work with."

Don's brow furrowed as he thought. "Perhaps a combination of information, like map grids and longitude and latitude coordinates. I mean Charlie has already looked at all the different numerical tags associated with each victim to try and find a commonality between the code on the bodies and the victims with no luck. I just have a strong hunch that those numbers are a clue left by our killer that denote who the next victim will be and maybe even where the next body will be found. It's like this guy is almost daring us to figure out who or where he will strike next."

Don and David spent nearly twenty minutes looking at every way to interpret the number codes into some kind location markers without success when Don called a halt after glancing at his watch.

"This is getting us nowhere, It's late and we're both hungry. Dad knows that we are both going to be coming and has dinner cooking for everyone. I'll follow you to your place so you can grab some clothes and drop off your car." Don sounded so defeated that his idea had not panned out that David felt badly for him.

"It was a good idea Don. You could still be right you know; we just aren't seeing it through the eyes of the killer. The answer is there. We'll find it, we just have to keep looking. I'll bet anything that once we figure it out, it will seem completely obvious in retrospect."

Don stood up and picked up his coat from the chair he had tossed it into sighing. "Yeah, you're probably right." They collected up all of the files and headed in silence for the elevator, Don looking more worn than he had in a very long time.

David wanted to say something encouraging to him, but he knew that it would be a hollow sentiment. The way this case was going David felt sure, in his heart, that there would be a victim number seven before they were able to solve the riddle of the numerical clues left by the killer. He hated that he was so sure about this feeling and would not share those fears with anyone. He just prayed that number seven wouldn't be someone he cared about.

When they arrived at David's apartment Don waited out in the hall so that he could call Charlie.

"Hey, Charlie! Are you at home or still at Cal Sci?"...  
"Why don't we pick you up? Dad is home cooking a big pot of spaghetti I think."…  
"Oh, David is with me. Look, I wanted to ask you about that. Director Donaldson has us all traveling in pairs right now. I was hoping that we could crash over there tonight."…  
"Well, I didn't think you would mind, so look, David is grabbing a few things and we'll be out to pick you up in about twenty minutes alright?"…  
"Ummm, let's talk about that later. There has been a new… development in the case."…  
"No, its preexisting data that we didn't know about, but I'd really rather not get into it over the phone."…  
"Yeah, ok buddy. We'll see you in a bit."

David stepped out and locked the door as Don hung up the phone. He had a black duffel bag slug over his shoulder and was tucking some pamphlets into his breast pocket.

"That was quick." Don commented as he pocketed his phone.

"Well I usually have a bag ready because I never know when Linda will be calling to have me stay over and give her a hand with the kids."

Don looked over at the younger agent. "I thought you said that she had worked out her problems with her husband?"

"Yeah, well they are going through another rough spot. He took off about three months ago, and left her with the kids and a pile of debt. She's fighting with the credit card companies right now because she didn't know about the cards he applied for or the nearly twenty thousands dollars of debt he sunk her and the kids into. Her lawyer says that she isn't responsible for any of his debt because she never signed the account, but he forged her signature and they are battling it out at this point. Now she is working two jobs just to make ends meet, and I stay over there almost as much as I'm here."

Don shook his head. "David, I had no idea things had gotten so bad. Do you need anything? You know… some time off or well… anything?"

David put his hand on Don's shoulder and said, "Thanks. We're getting by. If I do need to take some time, though, I'll let you know."

The ride to Cal Sci took only fifteen minutes and Charlie was just packing up his satchel when Don and David arrived. He flipped over the blackboard so that his calculations on the case were not in plain view. "I'm just about ready." he called over his shoulder.

Don took a moment to really examine his brother. He looked paler than normal and he had dark circles under his eyes, but Don had to admit that he could say no less of himself lately. Charlie's energy level seemed unaffected by lack of sleep as he moved with an almost palpable kinetic energy around his office collecting the things he planned on taking home with him. Perhaps his brother was doing better than he thought on this case.

Don waited until Charlie was facing him so that he could study his reaction when he asked, "How is the analysis coming?"

Charlie's eyes shot to David quickly before they dropped to the floor. He hesitated for a moment then answered "Not very well, but you said that you had preexisting data for me. What is it? Can I see it?"

"It turns out that LA wasn't the first place that our killer has been." Don watched Charlie blanch as that statement sunk in. "Three other agents were killed before the three here in LA.; one in Baltimore; in Boston and in Chicago. We didn't know about them because the field offices were handling them as stand alone cases until they got wind of what was happening here."

Charlie sank down into the chair next to his desk. He suddenly felt slightly light headed but he was determined not to let this news affect him. "Were they…" his voice trailed off before he looked up at his brother. "I mean… did you know them?"

Don saw fear mixed with sympathy in Charlie's eyes. _'Could he actually be more worried about how this case is affecting me than I am about him?'_ Don had to admit that this was not easy for him and that was clear to his co-workers so why not his brother? Two of those men had been friends of his. He hadn't seen them in years but they all hung out together when he was at the academy. The thought that these men had died the same way that Daryl and Danny did bothered him more than he was willing to admit.

"I knew two of them from the academy."

Charlie stood and stepped over to Don placing a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Don."

Don was surprised by the genuine tone of sympathy in his brother's voice and even more amazed that his brother used physical contact to offer support. Charlie was not normally a tactile person. He wasn't unfriendly, just not particularly comfortable with close physical contact. The slight squeeze he gave Dons arm spoke volumes to him. This case may be hard on Charlie, but he was not so absorbed in his own feelings that he forgot that these victims were friends of Don's. The mere fact that Charlie thought of that consideration first, relieved some of the concern Don had been feeling about Charlie's emotional state.

"The files are out in the car. Lets go home and get some dinner, and then we can work on the new information."

Charlie held on to Don's arm for a moment longer before releasing him and turning to grab his satchel. He followed Don and David out of his office then locked it up for the night.

As they drove the short distance to the Eppes family home; Don's arm, where Charlie had tried to comfort him, still felt warm with the remembered touch, and some of the stress that had been building throughout the day began to ease from his body. Charlie probably had no idea how much that simple embrace had helped Don to regain some focus and he found himself marveling at how such a small gesture could evoke such a strong reaction. As he turned into the driveway of his childhood home Don felt the first real smile he had had in weeks spread across his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - **Hello all. I would like to thank all those who have reviewed this story. I do appreciate it greatly. Sorry for being 2 days late on my every Monday posting but I actually did post a one-shot on Monday so check that one out too.  
Adam is having much longer waking periods now so I have less writing time. This chapter is shorter than I had originally planned but the length was sacrificed so that I could get it up before the Holiday.  
Enjoy.  
Alice

**Chapter Six**

Don and David made a sweep around the house and yard when they arrived. Charlie went inside to find his father who was looking out the kitchen window watching as the two agents looked around with their hands on their holsters ready to draw their weapons if necessary.

"What's this all about?" Alan asked without even turning around.

"It's just a precaution Dad, like having agents travel in pairs now." Charlie answered as he dropped his satchel by the back stairs and headed out to the living room.

Alan had almost finished making dinner when the two agents finished looking the place over and came inside. As Don closed and locked the front door he didn't see the shadowy figure emerge from the begonia bushes across the street and peer at the Eppes home.

David helped Alan to set the table while the brothers went into the living room to look over the new data on the other agents killed. Charlie picked up the folder on the agent from Boston, Michael Carter, and noted the fact that two sets of numbers were carved into his chest. Don told Charlie about his hunch regarding the numbers being some kind of road map as he took the folder from his brother's hands.

"I'm going to need to see the crime scene photos, Don." Charlie's voice cracked slightly when he said this and Don looked up sharply at him.

"Why, Charlie? The information about what was found on the body is here in the report." Don indicated the master sheet with all of the crime stats on it.

Don didn't really want Charlie to have to see these photographs. They were even more gruesome than the ones from the LA cases. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the faxed copies were black and white. Don had always felt that black and white photographs had more impact than color shots, although he couldn't really put into words why he felt that way. It had just always seemed to him that a black and white shot had a stronger and more gothic impact than a color shot.

"Don, I don't enjoy looking at these images you know, but I need to see what this killer is seeing. There are variables that I can't assess from a stat sheet; I actually have to see what was there."

Don didn't look very convinced by Charlie's argument and hesitated handing the file back to Charlie. He didn't mean to treat Charlie like some kind of child, but he was concerned about the anxiety attack that David had told him about. He needed Charlie's help on this case, but he couldn't have him falling apart either. Charlie needed to be focused to find the answer. These photographs and the emotional reactions that they would invariably illicit from his brother were going to get in the way of Charlie assessing this case objectively.

"Look, Don I think your hunch about the road map is probably right. Well… it may be more of a bread crumb trail than a road map, but I need to see what is different about Carter verses the other victims."

Don looked into his brother's earnest eyes and grudgingly admitted to himself that Charlie was right. He was after all a grown man and had consulted for other agencies besides the FBI. If looking over the crime scene photos was necessary to help him figure this out, then as the agent in charge he had to put his personal feelings toward his brother aside and allow his consultant to do his job.

As Charlie flipped through the file he stopped when he came to the crime scene photographs. The images of Agent Carter were indeed gruesome and Charlie set the file down on the coffee table so that the folder didn't give away the tremor that had begun in his hands.

Don watched Charlie closely and saw how his face grew pale and his breathing became slightly faster and a little shallower. He saw him swallow a couple of times as if to keep from becoming ill, but it was the look of controlled fear in Charlie's eyes as he carefully scrutinized the photos that really bothered Don.

"Hey, if we loose our appetite right before dad puts dinner on the table he's gonna' be pissed." Don said, as he closed the file. "Let's continue this later okay, Charlie?"

Charlie avoided Don's gaze but said, "Yeah ok. I'll be right back." Charlie got up and headed for the stairs.

Don decided to let him go. He could see that Charlie was upset, but he was handling it better than Don thought he would. Charlie didn't let his feelings stop him from thoroughly examining the images and he thought that perhaps he should give his brother more credit.

Alan was pulling a loaf of garlic bread out of the oven as David removed his suit coat and casually slung it over a kitchen chair before pulling out glasses from a cupboard to put on the table.

"I have to say that I'm impressed with this director of yours, David. I've been worried sick ever since this case began, and I think it is wise to insist that you all travel in pairs."

Alan moved David's coat to bring an extra chair out to the dining room table and the pamphlets that were in the breast pocket fell out.

"David, what have you got here?" Alan picked up and thumbed through the materials scanning the headings.

"_The National Institute of Mental Health? Anxiety - When Fear Holds Sway._" Allan looked up at David slightly startled and saw an almost guilty look on the young man's face. "Are these for Charlie?"

David glanced out toward the living room. "Mr. Eppes…" he began, unsure what he should tell him.

"It's alright David. I'm aware that Charlie is having some problems dealing with this case. I'm just glad that he's talking to someone about it, and perhaps you are a better choice at the moment than Don."

David looked confused by that statement so Alan elaborated. "Charlie and Don have not always gotten along as well as they do now. They are still finding a new understanding of each other and it is not particularly surprising that Charlie chose to confide in you rather than his older brother about his feelings in this." Alan lowered his voice to make sure that he wasn't over heard. "Don can sometimes be a little over protective of Charlie but I'll tell you this; Charlie scared the hell out of me last night. If you can help him I, personally, would be grateful."

They finished setting the table and Alan saw that only Don was in the living room. "Where's Charlie?"

"Oh, he went upstairs to wash up I think." Don replied as he scooped the files up to keep his father from seeing what was in them.

Don's action was not lost on his father. Alan saw and recognized that look in his son's eyes. The look that said, _'quick, put it away before dad sees'_. "Hey, I thought you were going to have some dinner first! It's ready, so put that stuff down and come and eat."

Charlie got up to the bathroom without letting anyone see what was happening. After he closed and locked the door he sat down on the vanity stool before his legs gave out on him. His heart was pounding in his chest and he had started shaking as he labored to breathe. A feeling of panic welled up in him that he was having trouble controlling. _'God, help me. I'm loosing my mind! Why is this happening to me?'_

He tried to think about what David had instructed this afternoon. He took an unsteady breath and held it before trying to slowly let it out. _'What is happening to me?' _Charlie thought as he shook his head to try and clear it. _'This is an anxiety attack, just like David said.'_ David had also told Charlie that he could 'think' his way out of one of these attacks so he concentrated on breathing slowly and evenly for a few minutes until he had himself under control.

Charlie didn't think that seeing at the crime scene photos had brought this on. He had carefully looked at those images and the details of the body. It may have been unpleasant to view but it was also clear to him that he wasn't just gawking at these pictures, shocked by what he saw. He had analyzed the pictures for clues and insight into the actions of this killer.

Charlie knew that Michael Carter was the first victim. Not only because of the two sets of numbers carved into Carter's chest, but because of the _way_ that this agent had been killed. The chest incision was ragged, unlike the victims here in L.A. The sternum had been cut with some kind of saw just like the others but it looked as though the killer had to try at least twice to get a straight cut. There was splintering of the bone near the base showing that the saw slipped on the first couple of tries. The edges of the main arteries that had been cut to remove the heart were nearly shredded, dissimilar to the later cases. Even the numbers that were cut into the skin showed signs of an unfamiliar hand. Unlike the bodies of his L.A. victims, it was obvious that Michael Carter's murder was clumsy at best.

"Maybe that's it." Charlie said out loud. "He's getting better at this, and he's going to be harder to stop."

Charlie stood on wobbly legs and approached the sink, turning on the cold water. He looked at his face in the mirror and noted the sweat on his forehead near his hairline. He did look pale, even in his own eyes. The fact that he had no real control over these attacks was very frightening to his analytical and logical mind. He washed his face and decided to change his shirt before going back down stairs for dinner.

After dinner Alan opted to do the clean up so that Don, Charlie and David could retire to the solarium to go over the case materials that Don had brought home. He was still uneasy about Charlie continuing with this investigation, but he also knew that Charlie was becoming a pivotal member of Don's team and with his help they had a much better chance of catching this guy than without him.

"Don, each of these number sets directly refers to one of the agents who have been killed. Michael Carter has two sets of numbers. One of them refers to him, and one refers to the next victim…" Charlie looked through the files on the desk of the solarium "…Merrill Hauser. I just can't figure out what the code is."

Charlie started pacing back and forth as his irritation mounted. "I have run these number sets through every cipher and encryption model I can think of, but they have yielded nothing."

David leaned forward and looked at the stat sheets on the victims. "There isn't any correlation between these number sets and any of the numerical tags that you asked for on all of the agents?"

"No." Charlie ran his hand through his hair and increased the rate of his pacing.

David sighed and looked up at Charlie. "So this guy has come up with an unbreakable code?"

Charlie stopped his pacing abruptly. "No, I don't believe that. Every code is breakable; you just need to find the key. The number strings are short; only six digits. That has to be a part of the answer, but none of my algorithms has been able to sort them out into a readable format."

Don could see that the fact that Charlie's mathematical skills being sorely put to the test and failing him was more than a little upsetting to the young mathematician. "Ok, let's put the math and the numbers aside for a moment. What do our victims have in common, what are the links between them that will help us determine who is next on the killer's list?"

"All of the agents killed are with the Bureau. They are all men. They attended Quantico within a four year time period. Other than that any similarities begin to diverge. Some of these agents worked on cases jointly, but only the LA victims and not all of them at that. The two agents from the east coast and the one from Chicago never even worked together."

"Then logically our answer must be at Quantico." Don reasoned.

"Except that no one instructor was common to all of them." Charlie walked over to the window and peered out into the darkened yard as if the shadows would somehow reveal the elusive pattern to these crimes. As Charlie stared out into the yard a movement near the Koi pond drew his attention.

Don was saying something but Charlie didn't hear him. The movement that he saw was no illusion of shadow, there was someone down there looking up into the solarium windows. The figure saw Charlie looking and darted out of the gloom for the back gate and Charlie took off at a run for the stairs.

"Charlie, what the hell..." Don shouted as his brother nearly bowled him over.

"There's someone out there!"

Don and David spared only a second to exchange startled glances before they ran after Charlie pulling their guns as they went.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N – **Hi! Sorry I am late _**again**_ for my Monday deadline! We have spent the last few days cleaning up the computer room _(you see this was our scary room)_ so that we can set up the nursery when Adam finally starts sleeping through the night. When I say it was a scary room I mean VERY SCARY. Most people have junk drawers; well we had a junk room with a full walk in junk closet and junk sun porch attached to it.  
Anyway this chapter is a little short but it seemed like a good stopping spot. I want to thank the wonderful people who have reviewed this story. I have actually made adjustments to this story based on some of your constructive reviews. This is very much appreciated by me! I am not using a beta for this piece so if you want to point out stuff I have missed please feel free to do so. You guys are really terrific and it is truly helping me to become a little better at this writing thing.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Alan looked up startled at Charlie who came tearing down the stairs his face alight with a mixture of alarm and a seething rage that was frightening to behold. "What the hell is going on?" Charlie was followed closely by Don and David who had drawn their guns which got Alan quickly to his feet.

"Charlie!" Don yelled as his younger brother skirted the dining room table on his way to the kitchen.

"Don, I've got the front!" David motioned for Alan to stay put as he moved to the front door. He reached over and flipped on the porch light as he carefully opened the door.

Don caught up with Charlie as he reached the back door and grabbed him by the arm. "Charlie! Hit the floods."

Charlie spun around and stopped abruptly when he saw that Don had a fierce look in his own eyes and had his weapon drawn. This seemed to bring Charlie back to himself a little. He moved out of the way while reaching behind the counter to turn on the flood lights to the back yard.

Don kept his attention on the back deck but spared a quick glance at his younger brother. "_You_ stay here."

Charlie scowled at that, but obeyed the command in his brother's voice as he watched Don use his training to check the corners in both directions before proceeding outside. Without taking his eyes away from scanning the nearby shadows Don said "Lock the doors Charlie."

Alan had come into the kitchen and moved to close and lock the back door since Charlie just stood there white faced and staring out the back window watching as Don carefully but quickly checked all of the areas of the yard that someone could be hiding in.

"Charlie... Charlie?" Alan had to take a hold of his youngest arm to get his attention. "Charlie, what happened? Who is out there?"

The raw fear in his father's eyes snapped Charlie back to reality. "I don't know who it was, but I saw someone out by the Koi pond."

Alan's eyebrows shot up. "And just what were you going to do? Charlie! My God, there is a maniac going around killing agents and you were going to try and do what? Catch him, bare handed?" Alan looked out the window to try and see what was happening out in the back yard but Don had moved off out of sight behind the Koi pond.

After nearly twenty minutes Don and David finished looking through the yard, around the house and up the street in both directions for any sign of the intruder but found none. Alan unlocked the back door for them to come back inside. "Well? What did you find? Who was out there Donnie?"

"We didn't find anything. There was no sign of anyone. I want to have trace to go over the place in the morning. It's possible that we missed something in the dark, but if there was someone, there they are long gone now."

Charlie, who was sitting quietly at the kitchen table, stood up and spoke in a quiet but very angry voice. "_IF?_ What is that supposed to mean! God damn it Don, I'm not crazy! I saw someone!" Charlie's voice rose with every word until he was standing there shouting at his brother. He had started to tremble slightly andwas breathing faster than he should have been.

"And you were going to rush right out there, into the waiting arms of a killer, is that it Charlie? What the _**hell**_ were you thinking?" Don's own voice had risen as the adrenaline that had been pumping through him began to release its hold. "Look at yourself Charlie! You're shaking and white as a ghost. You are having anxiety attacks because of this case, so yeah, I have a right to question what you _think_ you saw!"

Charlie shot at nasty glance at David then turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Damn it." Don muttered under his breath. He looked over at David with an apology ready but David waved him off. Don needed to talk to Charlie about this and David knew that. He followed Charlie but by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Charlie had slammed his bedroom door shut so hard that it shook the pictures on the stairwell.

Charlie's frantic dash to the back door had scared Don more than he wanted to admit. If the killer had been in the yard there is no telling what he would have done to Charlie. Don had a sudden image of Charlie as one of the victims and had to suppress a shudder. He heaved a big sigh and went up the stairs to talk to Charlie.

Don knocked lightly on the door. "Charlie. Look, I'm sorry. Will you please open the door? I want to talk to you." He was met with silence so he tried a different tactic. "Charlie, I believe you, ok? I need to at least get a description of the person you saw."

Charlie had obviously been standing just on the other side of the door because Don didn't hear any movement before the door opened slowly. Charlie stepped back to let his brother in and took a seat at the desk next to his bed.

Don came into the room and looked around. The place was fairly tidy which was kind of surprising to Don. Charlie had always been a slob. His room and his office at work were usually a collage of piles of papers, books and interesting objects. If you were to take a photograph of one of Charlie's spaces you could spend a reasonable amount of time playing the 'I spy' game, but Charlie always seemed to know where everything was. This evening however the floor was clean and free of discarded clothing. His desk had several stacks of papers arranged almost neatly on it rather than the pile of papers that usually lay strewn across the surface. His bed was even sort of made and that is where Don sat down facing his brother.

"I'm sorry about what I said down stairs. I didn't mean to make it sound like you were seeing things it's just that I know that you have been… well kind of twisted with this case. Look, Charlie don't blame David for talking to me about this. I figured something was up ever since you blew up at the office the other day. I didn't give him any room to keep quiet about how you were doing."

Don looked toward the window that faced the back of the house. Charlie's room was right next to the solarium and both rooms had a fairly clear view of the back yard. "Why did you try to run outside like that Charlie? You scared the hell out of me. This guy is a psycho, and if he were to get his hands on you… I can't stand the thought of him doing to you…"

Charlie's head snapped up sharply. "What do you think I have been feeling ever since this case started? Don, I'm a math professor. This guy isn't targeting me, he _is_ targeting the FBI and if that was him out there tonight, he may very well be targeting you." Charlie's voice rose in pitch as he finished speaking. He looked even more pale than he had in the kitchen and he seemed to be having a little trouble breathing.

"Hey you have to slow down Charlie. We don't really know who you saw out there tonight. I'll have David check with the local police to see if there have been any reports of prowlers in the neighborhood recently. Who ever you saw might not have anything to do with this case."

Charlie turned away from his brother and rested his arms on the desk. Don could see that he was trying to control his breathing and noticed the tense twitching in his neck and shoulders. "Can you describe anything about the person you saw?"

After a moment Charlie turned his face toward Don and to his relief his brother seemed to have calmed down quite a bit.

"I didn't see a face or any features because it was so dark. I saw more of a silhouette. There was a movement by the Japanese maple that drew my attention. The person I saw was maybe five five, or five six and about a hundred and fifty pounds or so. When I looked down I could tell that they were looking up at the solarium windows. Then they took off toward the back gate. Who ever it was had a fast and surprisingly long stride. I'm guessing that they made it to the gate within ten paces."

Don sat thinking about the description that Charlie gave him. "It's not much to go on, I mean that description could fit anyone, hell it could even fit a woman."

Charlie sighed in frustration and looked thoroughly dejected. Don put a hand on Charlie's shoulder and noticed how the muscles were still twitching slightly. "Hey come on Charlie. So what if it's not a lot to go on. If that was our killer it's more than we have so far."

Charlie pushed Don's hand away refusing to allow the small comfort. He was angry that he couldn't be more specific about who he saw. "It really isn't enough to tell anything! God, Don I could be describing me. I'm about those dimensions. Could this killer be that petite? Some of the victims were pretty big guys." Charlie shook his head. "I don't know what I saw. Maybe I _am_ loosing it."

"Knock it off Charlie! I believe that you saw someone."

Charlie didn't respond or even look up at Don's words.

"Charlie did you hear me? I believe that you saw someone in the backyard and that you saw them run when they were caught. Your description of the speed and length of their stride is proof that you were not imagining anything. Besides an effective killer doesn't need to be huge! You should know that."

Charlie turned toward Don this time and had an almost relieved look on his face. He nodded slightly as if finally accepting something. "Well what do we do now?"

"Come on lets go back down stairs. Dad is going to need a little reassurance at this point and I want to get this called in."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N –** Hello everyone. I start back to work tomorrow so my writing time is going to take a hit. Also please forgive me if there are lapses in posts. We will need to take our eight year old to a glaucoma specialist because of some very bad test results. I have no idea what we are in for. I am wholly unfamiliar with this disease and the testing procedures associated with it.

The doctor I took her to yesterday spoke about this right in front of her. He said "Glaucoma is a very nasty business and if she were my daughter I would take her to a specialist." Ally may only be eight years old but she is very smart and asked some frightening questions of this tactless doctor like: "If you mess up the tests and I go blind will you get fired?"

I will try to keep up with the posts but I ask you to be patient with me if there are lapses. Between the baby, a full time job, the holidays and now this; I can't promise weekly updates anymore, but I _promise_ I will do my best.

Love, Alice I

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

The Pasadena police came by to take a report of the prowler, and told Don that they had not received any other prowler reports for the area. The two officers who answered the call wanted to look through the back yard, but Don asked them not to because he was going to have an FBI forensics team go over the area in the morning.

"If this is part of a federal investigation, then why did you call us?" officer McMurry asked. It seemed to Don that he was less than pleased to have answered a call about a prowler then be told that he couldn't investigate.

"This _may_ be part of our investigation, but it may also just be a prowler. I wanted a record of this incident filed with your office. Look, I'm not trying to say that you would contaminate the scene. My partner and I have already looked through the yard and the surrounding area, but found no sign of an intruder. That's why I want to have our forensics experts go over it."

Don could understand this officer's attitude but he wasn't about to let a local cop inadvertently trample evidence that might help them to solve this case.

"We could have a patrol car make rounds up and down the street for the next few days if you want."

The offer surprised Don a little and it showed in his face. Considering the irritation in officer McMurry's voice, the last thing Don expected was willing cooperation from him. "Uh… that would be appreciated."

"Don't look so surprised, Agent Eppes. I may not work for the FBI, but we are all on the same team. If you or your partner are being targeted by this 'FBI killer', then a little back up wouldn't be such a bad thing, right?"

Don smiled at that. "You aren't kidding there." Don lowered his voice and turned so that his back was facing his father and brother who were still talking with the other police officer. "Look, this is my brother's house. So far this killer has only gone after FBI agents and not their families…"

"Don't worry, Agent Eppes. We'll make sure to keep an eye on things here. I'll step up the patrols in the area and have a squad car drive by the house regularly."

Once the local police had left, Alan advised everyone to get some sleep. Don and David made another pass around the grounds being sure to keep physically clear of the Japanese Maple and Koi pond where the intruder had stood, yet shining bright lights all over the area to visually ensure that no one was there. Don wasn't going to call it a night until he and David checked every room in the house as well. After the agents were satisfied and had made sure all the doors and windows were locked it was close to midnight. Alan had gone to bed after the upstairs had been searched, once again admonishing his sons and David to get some sleep.

After what had happened there was no way that Don was going to allow a watch not to be set. He was so keyed up after the search that he told David to sack out in his old room for a few hours.

"I'll come wake you for a turn around four, and Charlie you need to get to bed. You look terrible and you won't be any good to us if you're falling down from sheer exhaustion."

Charlie went up to his room but sleep eluded him. He kept getting up and looking out into the back yard, scanning the shadows for movement until he forced himself away from the window. _"I'm going drive myself crazy doing this."_ Instead he pulled out his notebook and started going over his equations again trying desperately to find a solution the cryptic numbers written on the agents' bodies.

By four AM Charlie was no closer to an answer than he had been at the beginning of this case and decided to go downstairs for a cup of coffee. A few minutes ago Don had come upstairs quietly and stopped at Charlie's door before moving down the hall to wake up David. Charlie could almost picture his brother looking down at the sliver of light emanating from the crack at the bottom of his door and shaking his head.

Charlie waited for his brother to get settled before quietly going downstairs. He knew that there would be a fresh pot of coffee going and he suspected that he would get far less objection from David to him being up than Don. He also wanted to let David know that he didn't blame him for speaking to his brother about his anxiety attack. Charlie knew all too well how persuasive his older brother could be when he wanted information from someone. David never had a chance. He had told Charlie up front that he would not lie to Don if asked about it directly so Charlie couldn't hold it against him.

When he arrived in the kitchen, David was sitting at the table rubbing sleep from his eyes and had two full cups of hot coffee waiting on the table. Charlie just smiled and took a seat in front of the mug across from the agent.

"Don said that you were awake. I'm guessing by the dark circles under your eyes that you haven't slept at all." David pointed at the cup in front of Charlie and said, "That's chamomile tea by the way."

"I did try to get some sleep you know, but…"

"Look, Charlie, I wanted to talk to you anyway."

"David, don't...  
I'm not angry with you. You _did_ say that you wouldn't lie to Don and I'm sure that he didn't give you any recourse. Don isn't someone you can side track very easily."

David smiled at that comment. It seemed to him that Charlie was trying to state that as delicately as he could, but there was clearly some family history behind the young man's words that he was sure he would never really know about. David reached over to his suit jacket that was draped over the chair next to him and pulled out the pamphlets that he had brought for Charlie.

"I want you to take some time to look these through, ok? There are coping exercises in here that will help if you have another problem, like you did just before dinner."

Charlie looked startled. "How did you… David you were out here in the kitchen with dad. You couldn't have seen…"

"Charlie you are forgetting a two key pieces of information. One: I am an FBI agent and I'm trained to notice things even when doing something else, including setting the dining room table which is in clear view of the living room. And two: I have a lot of experience with this problem. So tell me the truth. How _are_ you doing Charlie?"

Charlie's sighed to himself. There was no point in lying to David. He would see right through it and Charlie could never pull it off anyway.

"I'm scared David. I have never felt so out of control. It's like I'm loosing my mind or something. Logically I know I'm not, but I'm having trouble understanding why this is happening. I _did_ use that breathing technique you showed me tonight and it helped a lot, but what I want is to have this stop happening! Is there anything in these that will tell me how to prevent an anxiety attack?" Charlie held up the pamphlets and waved them at David.

David shook his head sadly. "That's why I made you tea instead of coffee. Caffeine is a trigger, you want to avoid it."

Charlie looked longingly at David's coffee. He was very tired but if the caffeine would make these attacks worse then he would never touch the stuff again.

"Charlie, you _can_ control anxiety instead of it controlling you, but with this case, I don't think that you can prevent these feelings all together. You have to remind yourself that they are just feelings. They won't physically hurt you, but if you don't stop and think your way through them, they will seriously mess with your head."

* * *

By six thirty in the morning the FBI lab techs showed up to go over the back yard. Colby and Megan arrived right behind the forensics team and Don had them take command of the scene investigation while he, David and Charlie went into the office. 

Charlie wanted to get the over-nighted copies of the other agents' files and take them to Cal Sci with him. He had asked Larry to book some time in the computer lab to see if the additional data would help with the cipher encryption programs and the data mining that they had been using to try and crack the killer's code.

While Charlie thumbed through the case files, Merrick called Don off to the side to speak to him.

"Agent Eppes, I want your professional assessment of what happened last night. Was the killer outside your brother's house or not?"

Don considered his answer before replying. "It is a strong possibility sir. The Pasadena police responded to the call and told us that there haven't been any reports of prowlers in the area and burglars don't usually decide to case a target shortly after the dinner hour when all of the occupants of the house are still up and moving around. It seemed to me that this person was observing and they ran for it as soon as they realized that Charlie had seen them."

Merrick nodded at this information and seemed to be thinking about how he wanted to proceed. "So far the agents killed have attended the academy during the early nineties. David graduated from the academy in 1999 so I'm thinking that of the two of you; _you_ are a more likely target. We could use that to our advantage."

Don wasn't sure he liked the way this conversation was going but held hid tongue to allow Merrick to voice his idea.

"If our killer is looking at you, we _could_ set a trap."

"WHAT!"

Don and Merrick spun around at the sound of Charlie's voice alight with anger.

"You want to use Don as bait? Have you seen what this bastard is doing to the agents he gets his hands on?" Charlie tossed the crime scene photographs from the file he was holding down on the table next to the assistant director.

Don could see that Charlie was close to really loosing his cool again and was thankful that it was early enough that only David was around to see this display. Charlie had never really liked Merrick, and Don could see that he was gearing up to blast him for this idea; an idea that Don didn't really care for either. The last thing he wanted to do was to give this guy the opportunity to kidnap and kill another agent least of all himself.

"Charlie calm down…"

"I will **not** calm down! This is the worst idea that he has come up with yet!" Charlie was starting to shout and pointed at Merrick who was getting very annoyed.

"Yes, well if our math consultant could crack this code then we wouldn't have to resort to such dangerous tactics. Your brother is an FBI agent and he understands the risks involved in this line of work _professor_." Merrick put a decidedly derogatory emphasis on the title 'professor' which only served to make Charlie angrier.

"I know that he understands the risks of his job, but that doesn't mean he should be offered up as some sort of sacrificial offering to a psychopath, in the hopes of catching him! In case you haven't noticed, this killer is very smart and has avoided leaving behind any kind of evidence that he didn't specifically want us to have. No fingerprints, no DNA, no witnesses. He has come up with a code that none of the _FBI cryptologists_ can crack. He has abducted and murdered six highly trained agents without anyone coming close to catching him. What the hell happens when he takes Don and you can't stop him!"

At this point Charlie had lost all control. He was practically screaming at the assistant director and panting. David stepped in and forcefully took Charlie by the shoulders and steered him out of the office and into the men's bathroom outside in the hall. He made sure the door was locked and watched as Charlie sat down on the nearest toilet shaking and gasping.

"Charlie, you can't scream at Merrick that way. You need to get a hold of yourself man. Now breathe."

* * *

By the time that David and Charlie came back into the office Merrick had left and Don was livid. He pulled Charlie into one of the interrogation rooms and closed the door before rounding on his brother. 

"What the hell is the matter with you? I know that you're not that fond of Merrick, but you can't just go off on him like that in this office, Charlie. He **_is_** my boss you know. He wanted to pull you off this case right then and there and he has the authority to do it! I had to do a lot of smooth talking to calm him down and get him to realize that without you, we may never be able to decipher that code. I'll tell you Charlie, if you don't rein it in, I may just end up agreeing with Merrick on this, and have you pulled off the case myself."

Charlie had sat still long enough for this. "You can't do that, Don!"

"The hell I can't. I am the agent in charge of this case and if I pull you from it; then that's it, Charlie!"

"I will still work on it whether it's official or not! You can't tell me what equations I can work on and what I can't."

"God damn it Charlie! Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? Merrick is just trying to find a way to solve this case and this is the first break we have had since Devon Wilson was killed!"

Charlie sat down hard in the chair next to the table staring with disbelief at Don. "You're not actually considering Merrick's suggestion are you? Don, that's crazy! Look, let me get back to campus. Larry and I will run all of the data through the encryption models. I will find the answer, Don! I have twice as much data as before; I promise I'll figure this out. Just don't…  
I swear to God, I'll tell dad…  
Don, you can't do this!"

Don's anger dissolved like butter on a hot plate. Charlie looked so frightened and the fact that he would ever consider scaring their father with this kind of information spoke volumes to him about how upset Charlie actually was.

"Look, Charlie, sometimes I…  
...any agent would do what ever it takes to catch someone like this guy. I am not crazy about this suggestion either ok; so let's get you back to the computer lab and get an answer so that we don't have to consider this as a possibility."

Charlie got up slowly from the table. His head was spinning. The logical side of him understood why Merrick had suggested this strategy _and_ why Don was considering it, but the side of him that was Don's brother was screaming at him even louder. He couldn't let Don do this because in his heart he knew that he would never see him again. As sure as the sun rose every day; he was convinced that if this killer got a hold of Don, his brother would die.

Don saw the raw fear mixed with determination in Charlie's eyes. He knew that Charlie would block out everything else until he had an answer. He made a mental note to give Larry a call and make sure that Charlie stopped to eat once in a while. He wasn't even going to attempt to get his brother to sleep, for it would be pointless. He was also concerned that when Charlie got hyper focused he wouldn't know if he was in danger until it was far too late so he also made another decision.

"I'm sending Jonathan O'Donnell with you Charlie. That prowler could have been looking at you rather than me or David. Jon's a good agent. He'll keep an eye on you and he won't get in your way."

Charlie just nodded as he opened the door of the interrogation room and headed out into the bull pen while Don stepped over to talk to Agent O'Donnell. Charlie collected all of the files including the photos he had thrown at Merrick earlier and was packing up his satchel when Agent O'Donnell came over to introduce himself.

"Hello, Dr. Eppes. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand in greeting which Charlie absently shook. Jon glanced over at Don with a questioning look on his face.

"Don't mind him, Jon. Once he starts thinking about a problem he hardly notices anything around him. That's one of the reasons why you will be his shadow for the next day or so."

Charlie had started to walk toward the door when he turn and looked at his brother but addressed Jon. "I'm sorry if I seemed rude Agent O'Donnell. I can get very focused sometimes as my brother pointed out, but I am far from deaf."

With that Charlie turned on his heel and walked out to the elevators. Agent O'Donnell followed behind shaking his head as he wondered how long the next couple of days were going to be if he had to be stuck between two brothers who both had strong personalities and opposing points of view.

* * *

Thanks, ensigstel, for the heads up about typographical errors. I have gone back and fixed them. 


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N -** This one is a little short and I am not too happy with Larry's dialogue. I may change it at a later time. Larry is one of my favorite characters but he is hard to write.

**Chapter Nine**

Agent O'Donnell caught up to Charlie just as the elevator doors opened. "Doctor Eppes, do you have a car here?"

Charlie just shook his head. He was having difficulty controlling the rising anxiety that had flooded his body ever since he walked out of the interrogation room followed by Don. He had spent an hour looking over the materials that David had given him and tried to mentally apply some of the calming techniques to keep his breathing under control. The last thing he wanted was to have a full blown anxiety attack in front of this agent that he had just met.

Charlie was careful to keep his back to Agent O'Donnell by stepping forward in the elevator car so that he was standing right in front of the button panel. He could feel the perspiration running in tiny rivulets down the back of his neck.

The car stopped on the seventh floor and two women got on talking animatedly together about a movie that they had gone to see.

"Oh that Tom Cruise is such a good actor and gorgeous to boot."

"Personally I don't think that hack can act his way out of a paper bag, Amy. His portrayal of an indifferent father turned loving and protective was wooden at best, and he is only ok looking."

Amy, who was smartly dressed in a skirt and suit coat with a flowering blouse was wearing far too much perfume to suit Charlie's taste reached in front of him to push the Lobby button.

"I suppose you prefer the original War of the Worlds. Besides, if anything I thought you would love this movie. You are the one who is into sci fi flicks right? I mean you couldn't wait to get out and see Serenity when it hit the theaters."

"That is because I was curious about the series Firefly, which I have never seen and because one of my favorite actors was in it."

"Oh let me guess that David Crum-something?"

Charlie was trying as hard as he could to remain calm and breathe slowly but the smell of Amy's perfume made him feel like he was suffocating. The sound of these two women's voices was boring into his skull like a drill and he reached out to the waist high rail around the wall of the car with a white knuckled grip to steady himself. The air in the enclosed compartment felt close and stale. His pulse was pounding in his ears but he remained as still as possible.

"Well, whatever his name is, he can't hold a candle to Tom Cruise! Tom Cruise is a huge box office name after all and he's smart. He actually bought an ultrasound unit so that he and his wife could watch the growth of their baby during her pregnancy. I read that he is researching everything about these ultrasounds so that he can understand what he's looking at and he is going to donate the unit to a charity clinic after the baby is born."

"Amy, are you kidding me! The fact that he has money and can afford to purchase that equipment doesn't negate the fact that it is wrong to just use it anytime they want a peek at the baby. I mean really, that is wrong medically and ethically and on every other level. I wonder what he'll do if that little wife of his ends up with post partum depression!"

"Don't get me going on that subject, Diane. He makes some very valid points about that."

"How on earth would you know, Amy? You have never had a baby. You haven't got a clue what these women go through, and neither does that over inflated self righteous ego maniac."

"_God this is taking forever!"_ Charlie thought to himself as the car stopped on three other floors so that people could get on or off. At least as the car began to fill up, Amy and Diane moved to the back and had suspended their Tom Cruise argument. By the time the elevator opened to the Lobby, Amy and Diane had resumed their discussion on the merits of the famous actor's views on the use of anti depressants.

Charlie automatically held his breath as Amy passed by him but he was now light headed from trying to breathe slowly and shallowly at the same time. He could feel Agent O'Donnell's gaze on his back and he was sure that the man had noticed his death grip on the rail.

Once they had reached the garage level and the door opened they were alone again. Charlie just stood still for a moment as the cool air rushed into the stuffy elevator compartment. He didn't want to begin panting but he couldn't seem to help himself as his lungs got a taste of the fresh air coming from the open air parking garage.

Agent O'Donnell moved forward to stand in the threshold of the elevator so that the doors wouldn't close. It was obvious that the young professor was having some difficulties and he wasn't sure what he should do.

"Please, just give me a moment. That woman's perfume was…  
…she was wearing a little too much."

The agent could see how pale and clammy Charlie's face was and he had noticed the young man's grip on the hand rail. He suspected that it may have been more about the argument that he had with his brother than the woman in the elevator, although her perfume _was_ strong enough to draw his attention.

Charlie straightened up and stepped out into the parking garage. The air was cooler because they were shaded even though bright sunlight drew long streamers of light along the cement floor between the support posts. He noticed that his hand was stiff and a little sore where he had taken a hold of the rail. He glanced down at it, and saw a deep impression along his palm that was the same width as the railing. This did not go unnoticed by the agent.

"My car is over here Doctor Eppes." Agent O'Donnell stepped off to the right and pointed his keys at a black Lexus that beeped in response to his remote.

"Please call me Charlie, Agent O'Donnell."

"All right, Charlie, you can call me Jon."

As Jon moved around to the driver's side Charlie wiped his sleeve across his forehead as nonchalantly as he could to wipe the sweat off. He wasn't sure if the agent had noticed or not. He decided to imagine that he had not seen anything amiss and ignored it as well.

Neither of the men saw the silver Taurus that started up two isles over. The driver squinted in the morning sun at the Lexus as it started up and slowly backed out of its parking spot. A malicious smile spread across the lips of the driver in the Taurus as it also slowly pulled out and followed at a distance.

After they passed the toll booth at the front of the garage, Charlie turned to Jon with what he hoped was a calm expression. "So did you know Don at the academy?"

"Only by reputation, I graduated before him. He and I didn't exactly hang out in the same circles. He was a serious student and trainee. I was a bit of a party animal." Jon looked over at Charlie gauging his reaction. "Don't get me wrong, I was as serious about my training as the next agent, but your brother was…  
…almost driven. He spent most of his time either training on the obstacle course or studying in the library."

Charlie looked over at Jon with his mouth open. "Are you talking about Don Eppes? My brother Don was a study freak?"

"I wouldn't say freak, I _would_ say dedicated. It's not that easy when your younger brother's theories on data encryption are used as course materials among your classmates. He was very proud of the fact that your work was used in the cipher and encryption courses taught to the future cryptologists at Quantico. He may have worked as hard as he did so that he wouldn't let you or your parents down."

Charlie frowned slightly and looked down at his hands that were resting lightly in his lap. When he spoke it was softly and under his breath but Jon heard him non-the-less. "He puts three thousand miles between us and he still couldn't get away from me."

"I don't want to speak out of turn, Charlie, but perhaps it was not so much a matter of getting away from anything. Maybe it was more like he was trying to find himself. Hell, he even managed to avoid getting talked into going out with Shelly Arbary, the librarian at Quantico. She hit on lots of the trainees including me. I think that may have been one of the reasons that she was eventually let go. She was a bit off, if you know what I mean."

Charlie had an almost pained look on his face, and he had spoken as though the brothers had experienced a huge rift in their lives. It was clear that the younger man felt that his brother had been trying to cut him out of his life, but when ever Don had spoken of his younger sibling it was always with pride in his voice.

"Don is probably a lot like you. He wanted to be the best at something. He told me once that he left the minor leagues because he didn't believe that he would ever be more that a mediocre player. The FBI has allowed him to shine in a way that baseball didn't."

Charlie looked quizzically over at the agent driving. "I thought you said that you didn't hang out with him at the academy."

"I didn't really know him at Quantico, but I _did_ work with him in New Mexico. He is one of the best agents I have ever worked with. He's smart, has outstanding instincts and is an exceptional agent. He doesn't often make mistakes, Charlie."

"But if he makes on now it could be the last thing he ever does." Charlie frowned again and looked out the window not really seeing the busy streets as they passed through the LA traffic on their way to the highway. His thoughts were turned inward. "Merrick has no right to use Don as bait for this killer."

Jon turned left onto the 10 and merged smoothly into traffic, which was heavy with the morning commuters. Six car lengths back the silver Taurus also turned left onto the highway and moved over to the far left lane and was careful to keep several vehicles between itself and the Lexus.

"Charlie, if it turns out that this killer is targeting Don, we have the advantage. He would never be alone. We would be able to keep him under constant physical as well as electronic surveillance. It's like I said, Don is a very good agent. He wouldn't take chances with his own life any more than he would another agent's life."

Charlie looked at Jon and spoke with frustration and anger in his voice. "You don't think Don using himself as bait, is taking a chance with his life?"

Jon sighed. He knew that the young mathematician was worried about his brother and didn't take offense to Charlie's anger. "Anytime we work a case with this kind of perpetrator there is risk. That is the nature of what we do. What is important is to make sure that the risk is acceptable. If Don is a target, even if the killer knows that we are watching, he will still attempt to get to him. Our psychological profile tells us that much about him. Psychopaths can't help but to follow through on their intentions. We can use that pathological single mindedness to catch him, and stop him from killing again."

As they took the Pasadena exit off the freeway, the silver Taurus moved over to the middle lane and continued on to the next exit before back tracking to Cal Sci.

* * *

Megan and Colby arrived at the office by nine thirty. Don pulled them aside as soon as he saw them.

"So what did forensics find?"

Megan handed a thin file to Don. "Not much; there were footprints in the dirt near the Maple tree, but they were smudged enough when the perp ran that we couldn't get a readable cast."

"So there was someone there." It was more of a statement than a question, but it wasn't what either Megan or Colby had expected to hear Don say.

"Was there any question as to that fact? Didn't you say that Charlie saw someone?"

Don looked up at Colby and shook his head. "Look, I never really doubted what Charlie saw…  
…well OK maybe I doubted it a little. He's been under a lot of stress because of this case. He hasn't been able to decode those number clues and that isn't helping."

Megan had a little better understanding than Colby as to what Don may have been talking about. She could tell that something had happened with Charlie that David was reluctant to speak to Don about, at least publicly.

"There were no finger prints on the gate or any of the structures that may have been touched. He was obviously wearing gloves. Given the size and depth of the footprints, I would say that Charlie's description of height and weight was accurate. There wasn't anything there that we could use to ID this person. The photographs of the footprints are in there." She said indicating the file she had handed Don. "This guy is very clever, and knows how to leave no trace evidence behind. We took samples of the dirt the prints were in and the lab is checking it now for anything that shouldn't be in your family's backyard."

"Well, if Charlie can't come up with something by the end of today, then we may have no choice."

Colby looked utterly confused now. "No choice other than…?"

"If our killer was outside the house last night, the chances are that he was watching me. I fit the pattern of victims more closely than David. Either way one of us is probably next on his list."

Megan paled a little. "You want to set a trap using you or David as bait?"

"Merrick suggested this, and I have to say that as much as I'm not very happy about being used as bait, it may be the only way to get this guy. We would have to set it up in two teams. One on me; and one on David. I want to give Charlie until tomorrow to come through, but if not; this needs to be set and ready to roll so lets get this put together. Megan you will be the tactical leader on David's surveillance and Colby you can take me."

They moved off to get their teams assembled while Don got David and went to Merrick's office e to apprise him of the plan.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Charlie and Jon spent the rest of the morning in the computer lab. Larry came by between his other campus commitments to look over the new data that Charlie was running through the encryption models but they were making very little progress.

Larry took a hold of Charlie by the arm and began to pull him away from the main screen that was still running yet another encryption algorithm. He had been standing there staring at the process running as if that would make the answer to the problem appear magically on the screen. "Charles, I do this under strict orders from a higher authority, actually two higher authorities…"

Charlie turned a confused look on his friend. "Larry, when did you get here?"

Larry rolled his eyes at the young man for he had been working with one of the other encryption programs for the past hour. "In the grand scheme of the cosmos it doesn't matter."

"What higher authority?"

Larry chuckled. "You need to eat Charles. I promised both your father and older brother that I would drag you from the lab at least once this afternoon to eat. The cafeteria is serving Sloppy Joes today." he said, in an alluring tone of voice.

"I can't leave right now, Larry. This algorithm is almost… Sloppy Joes?"

"Come on lets go before they are all gone. It's nearly one in the afternoon already. By the time we come back the programs will have finished running."

Charlie seemed to be thinking that offer over. The college cafeteria's food was only all right but they did make a great Sloppy Joe. He wasn't particularly hungry at the moment but by the same token, if he didn't eat something soon, he would start to get light headed. After another moment of thought he scooped up all of the files and stuffed them in his satchel.

As they walked out into the afternoon sun, the campus felt oddly empty. The semester was over, and even though there were students who were finishing up finals scattered around the broad campus lawns as they made their way to the cafeteria, it still felt a little lonely. Charlie enjoyed the bustle of people moving quickly from building to building during classes. When the campus was full and abuzz with activity everything seemed to hum along at a pace that more closely matched the speed of his own thoughts. It gave him a stronger sense of connection to his academic world. The slower pace around campus between semesters had always accompanied a slight sense of loss for him as his internal thought processes never slowed down to match the slower campus pace between semesters.

"I don't know what else to try if the programs running don't yield any results." Charlie couldn't turn off his mind going over the puzzle of decoding the number sequences.

"I only took one course of cryptology at Quantico so I am no expert but is it possible that the different sets of numbers are just parts of a larger message. You know like pieces of a puzzle?" Jon had been watching all morning as Charlie's frustration level mounted at the dead end results he was getting.

"That's a good thought Jon, but I have already tried stringing these numbers together in every way I can think of including in order of the deaths, in order of the age of the victims, even in order of their graduation from the academy. I can see that these numbers are not just random but so far nothing I have tried is revealing their pattern. As a matter of fact that is the program running right now; the sequences in order of the graduation dates."

The three men walked into the cafeteria which was also abysmally empty in Charlie's opinion. As much as Charlie was anxious to get back to the lab, he was forced to sit down and eat in the cafeteria. There was no food or drink allowed in the lab for obvious reasons.

"You know we are just not looking at this thing the right way. If those numbers are not a code or an encryption for anything then what else could they be?"

Larry tapped his fork on his upper lip in thought for a moment before he said, "They could be simply raw data. What is a six digit number?"

Jon cocked his head to the side and said, "Well dates can be six numbers, some files numbers are six digits."

"Some IP addresses could be six numbers long. Or perhaps a combination of the number strings could be the clue. If the first victim had two sets of numbers then perhaps we should be looking for twelve digit possibilities."

Charlie seemed lost in thought for a moment. "You know Larry that could be true. If Michael Carter was the first with twelve numbers maybe every victim after that would be either the first or second part of a single clue."

"So if we knew what the numbers of the first part of the clue are then we could determine what the next part will be and possibly _who_ the next victim would be?" Jon couldn't think of any twelve digit numbers off the top of his head.

Charlie stared down at the Sloppy Joe on his tray. He was bone tired and his eyes became unfocused. The bun with the sauce poured over it began to resemble something else. A cold sweat broke out on his face as a full all out anxiety attack began to bubble up inside of him like lava from the mouth of an active volcano. Both of the other men seated with him noticed the terrified stare in Charlie's eyes as he stared down at his untouched food.

"Charles?"

Charlie didn't really hear Larry. His voice seemed to be coming from a great distance. All he could hear was the thumping rhythm of his own heart as his pulse pounded in his head. As he stared at his try the food seemed to begin to beat in time with the quickening beat of his own heart.

"_Stop this!"_ Charlie's mind screamed at him. He began to try and breathe more slowly forcing down the fear that was threatening to completely engulf him. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated only on his breathing.

"_I am calm, I will find the answer, Don is all right. I am calm, I will find the answer, Don is all right. I am calm, I will find the answer, Don is all right."_

Charlie repeated his mantra over and over in his mind as he began to regain a grip on his run away emotions. Larry and Jon were becoming increasingly concerned as the both called Charlie's name but got no response from the young man. Finally Larry could take no more and took a hold of Charlie's hands which were balled into fists on either side of the tray in front of him.

"Charles!"

Charlie opened his eyes and looked from Larry to Jon and saw the concern etched into their faces. He pushed his tray away from himself. "I don't want this. I want to find an answer to these numbers now so that Don won't be forced into Merrick's plan. Let's get back to the lab."

Larry was frowning deeply. "Charles, you are started to scare me a little. What plan are you referring to?"

"Merrick wants to use Don as bait for this killer."

Larry sat back stunned for a moment then shook his head. "How would that work? If we don't know who the next victim will be then how can Don be used as bait?"

Charlie sighed, he had said too much. He had not planned on telling Larry about the prowler in the yard last night, but could see no way around it now. "Someone was at the house last night. David, Don and I were up in the solarium and I saw someone out in the back yard by the Koi pond looking up at us. They took off before we could get outside. Merrick thinks that it was the killer scoping out his next victim which would be either David or Don."

Larry looked very disturbed by this news. "And Don graduated from the academy within the same time frame as the other victims where David graduated much later. Do you think that this person was watching Don?"

"I don't know, Larry. What I do know is that I won't let Merrick use my brother that way. Don is pig headed enough to go along with this plan and I can not allow it."

With that Charlie stood up abruptly from the table and started for the door. Larry and Jon were taken by surprise by his sudden movement and rushed to follow. For the rest of the afternoon Charlie seemed to be working with a focus that was honed not by fear but by anger. He spoke only when it was necessary and Jon had to stop him from leaving the lab without so much as a word as to where he was going.

"Whoa, where are you off to professor?"

Charlie turned a furious glare on the agent who had stopped him from leaving by grabbing his upper arm. After a moment Charlie sighed as he glanced back at the computer screen showing a readout that stated 'no contiguous pattern discerned.'

"I need to get to my blackboards. This!..." he said waving his hand at the offending computer while frustration and anger warred for dominance in his tone "...is getting me no where."

Jon looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly nine thirty. Larry had left for an appointment he had with one of his students and Charlie was simply put, dead on his feet.

"Charlie, you're beyond tired. You haven't eaten all day. You're the smart one right? You should know that if you don't get some food and some rest you will collapse and that will do Don absolutely no good. I'm taking you home. After you have had some dinner you can get back at it. I'm sure there must be at least one blackboard at your place. Am I right?"

The tone of Jon's voice was light, almost teasing and Charlie couldn't help but respond to it. He knew that Jon was right and his stomach growled loudly at that precise moment as if to confirm it. Jon just raised his eyebrows in a look of _"I told you so."_

"Ok, you win. Let's get out of here." Charlie took a few moments to collect up all of the case files and his laptop.

As they headed out of the building into the now dark campus and headed for the parking lot next to the east quad neither man was able to see the shadowy figure crouched down on the far side of Jon's car. As they drew closer to the vehicle Jon pointed his remote at the car and disengaged the alarm. A moment later the figure behind the car pointed a remote at a trash can that the men had passed on the walkway several yards behind them.

The sound of the blast and the force of the explosion threw both men to their knees. As they turned stunned looks back at the fire now raging in the over turned trash can the back door of Jon's Lexus opened and the figure got in.

Jon was up first and he pulled a still stunned Charlie to his feet. "Get in the car and lock the doors!" Jon pulled out his pistol and carefully approached the burning trash can looking around for any sign of the person who set it off.

Once he had determined that the area was clear of any immediate danger he pulled out his cell phone while still scanning the quad with his pistol raised.

Don's cell phone rang shrilly and he pulled it from his waist holster. "Eppes!"…  
"What? Is Charlie all right?"

David who was still with Don at the office jerked his head up at that.

"We'll send a team to Cal Sci's east campus to investigate. We'll call the fire department as well." Don was motioning for David to get on the phone and get those calls made.

"Jon, get my brother out of there. Go back to the house. I'll meet you there after I leave the scene."

Don clicked his phone shut and picked up the phone on his desk. He could hear that David was dispatching agents to Cal Sci so he contacted the Pasadena fire dispatch. They had already received a call about an explosion at the college and two pumpers were on their way.

David and Don hung up the phones at the same time. Don grabbed his coat as he and headed for the elevators with David following closely. "Someone set off an explosion at Cal Sci. It happened a few yards from Jon and Charlie."

David looked grave as they stepped into the elevator. "Don that could mean that the prowler wasn't looking at you or me last night."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Jon rushed back to the car as the sounds of sirens filled the air. He quickly unlocked the door and started to get in, but stopped abruptly as he noticed that Charlie was unconscious and had a thin steel garrote around his neck. What stunned him even more was the identity of the person holding onto the device.

"Hello lover, it _has_ been a long time." the woman's voice purred softly. "All I have to do is turn my wrist and the young professor's carotid arteries will bleed out all over your pretty car killing him in seconds."

As if to make her point she twisted her hand and the metal bit deeply into the young man's neck as blood erupted from the garrote around Charlie's neck and began to run down to his collar. "Get in the car and close the door, darling. We are going for a little drive."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Shelly Arbary, the librarian that used to work at Quantico when Jon was a trainee sat in the back seat of hisLexus with a firm grip on the garrote around Charlie's neck. Her blonde hair was pulled up to the back of her head in a tight bun so that no stray strands would fall and leave behind a DNA trace. She wore a long sleeved black cotton turtleneck shirt, and rubber gloves, leaving no fingerprints on any surface but still allowing her to essentially feel with her fingers almost normally. She was a very attractive woman except for her cruel cold blue eyes that seemed to bore a hole through the back of Jon's head. Her smile was nothing short of pure evil and it was astonishing how the twisted hatred that seemed to emanate from her completely changed her features turning her into a mask of ugliness.

Jon couldn't believe that Shelly was sitting in his car holding him hostage with Charlie's life in the balance. He had realized that she was somewhat unstable after their one and only rather disastrous date when he was a young trainee at Quantico but he never would have thought her capable of the atrocities that had been committed to his fellow agents. Jon weighed the options available to him in his head. He knew he couldn't get to his gun before she killed Charlie. Perhaps if he could distract her enough he could get his phone and speed dial Don.

"Why are you doing this Shelly? Why did you murder all of those men? What did they ever do to you? What did _I_ do to you?"

Shelly's features contorted into an even more gruesome mask of loathing as she hissed her reply. "I gave you my heart and you stomped all over it. You used me for your pleasure and when you were done you just threw me out like so much garbage!"

Jon's mind was reeling with this accusation. She had aggressively pursued him. When they had gone out the night ended in her apartment with an utterly vicious encounter that left Jon wishing for nothing more than to get out and away from her. At first he was intrigued and excited by her forceful love making but she turned sadistic which scared him. He knew that some people were into that sort of thing but that was definitely not his style and her insistence that he was enjoying being dominated turned what was an enthralling evening into a nightmare.

He decided to try and sooth her so that he could get his hand to his cell phone without her noticing. "Shelly, I didn't know how to handle a woman like you. I was young and inexperienced."

He slipped his hand smoothly into his jacket pocket.  
"It was so long ago, why now? Why hold this grudge for so long."

He carefully opened the phone as he withdrew his hand making sure to keep it under the lapel of his coat.  
"You could have tried to talk to me about how you felt..."

Her harsh laughter sent icy chills through him. "You were plenty experienced my sweet. As to why I hold a grudge? Haven't you heard 'Hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned'? You avoided me like the plague after our encounter so I couldn't talk to you even if I wanted to." He voice became cold and sharp. "Now hand over that cell phone that you have so expertly taken from your pocket."

'_Shit!' _Jon glanced at Charlie. He had small trickles of blood that had dripped down his neck from the garrote but it was also clear that he was still breathing. She had been careful to garrote him below his Adams apple. Jon carefully reached back with his right hand holding the cell phone hoping that the movement would mask his left hand carefully reaching for his side arm.

As Shelly took the phone from his hand she smiled evilly. "I'll take that gun in your left hand as well."

'_Shit, Shit!'_ Jon hesitated. His hand was on the gun and he mentally tried to envision how quickly he could withdraw the weapon and get a shot off before she could sever Charlie's throat.

Shelly seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and tightened the noose around Charlie's neck causing his head to snap up against the head rest. He began to make a gargling sound as the flow of oxygen was cut off. Jon's hopes for a quick resolution to the situation were dashed as he saw fresh blood spilling down Charlie's neck and staining the front of his shirt.

"All right!" He carefully removed his gun and handed it, butt end first, to the woman in the back seat.

Once she had the gun and his cell she released some of the tension on the garrote and Charlie's head fell forward as he unconsciously gulped lungfuls of air. The blood flow from the steel wire around his neck increased slightly with the release of pressure and Jon was starting to get concerned about how deeply she had cut his throat with the wire. There seemed to be an awful lot of blood now and Charlie's skin looked paler than it had before.

Jon knew that he could never talk her out of trying to kill him but he had to attempt to save Charlie. He was charged with the younger Eppes' safety and he was determined to try. "Look, let him go. He has nothing to do with this. He doesn't even know you, Shelly."

Another sharp bark of laughter escaped her lips. "Nothing to do with this? He has everything to do with this. The clues I left were for Agent Eppes, the star student to figure out! But instead of rising to the challenge he opted to cheat and used his little genius brother to do his work for him. When I saw the two of you coming out of that elevator I was so pleased because I was given the opportunity to solve two problems at once."

Jon was unwilling to give up so easily. "Shelly, I know Don Eppes. He will pull Charlie off the case immediately after this. Please, Charlie doesn't know what your clues mean. I have worked with him all day and he is no closer to an answer than he was when Don first asked for his help. Let him go. You have me, my cell and my gun. That is all you really need. You don't need Charlie!"

Shelly seemed to ponder this offer for a moment. "Hmmm. I don't think so dearest. Young professor Eppes needs to learn what it means to play with the big boys, and Agent Eppes needs to learn what the consequences are when he allows his little brother to play at being an agent. Now start the car and drive west toward downtown."

Jon hesitated again and she tightened the noose until he complied. As they drove through the darkened streets turning where Shelly instructed Jon considered wrenching the car to throw her off balance, but quickly discarded that idea. He had made a tight left hand turn which caused the garrote to tighten and audibly choke the young professor even more. Within fifteen minutes of leaving the campus, Shelly instructed Jon to pull into the back of a large dark building. The sign out front said 'Bell Publications'.

"What are we doing here?"

"Paedar O'Donnell was a major radical figure in the history of twentieth century Ireland. darling. He was a socialist, a Republican and a writer who saw his pen as a weapon in the revolutionary process. He moved from being a trade union organizer to a senior in the ranks of the IRA during the War of Independence and the Irish Civil War. He was also a key figure in the Republican-Communist nexus of the late twenties and early thirties. Your namesake, dear Jon, was the instigator of a mass campaign against the payment of land annuities to Britain, _and_ he was the editor of the legendary 'Bell Magazine' of which this publications firm is named for. It is therefore fitting for you to die here, don't you think?"

Before Jon could respond he felt a sharp prick in his neck. Shelly had shot him with a tranquilizer dart and he too fell immediately into a drugged slumber next to Charlie.

Shelly released her hold on the garrote and Charlie slumped forward in his seat, cracking his forehead on the dash board. Shelly meanwhile took a large black plastic hooded poncho out of a small fanny pack and put it on before stepping out of the car. She left the two men there and went to a large brown van parked at the far back corner of the rear lot behind the building and backed it up to the loading dock. After positioning the truck she got out and lowered a flatbed hydraulic lift containing a wheelchair and a large dolly with two sets of saw horses and four six foot long boards.

It only took her ten minutes to wheel the dolly with her equipment into the rear of the building that she had managed to get the keys to and to set up two makeshift tables with the saw horses and boards. By the time she got back out to the car Charlie was beginning to show some signs that he would wake up soon. He groaned softly when she opened the passenger door and hauled him out of the car and into the wheelchair.

She knew that she was running out of time and had to move quickly now. She wheeled him up the loading dock ramp and into the building steering him down a long corridor to the printing room. It was a fairly large area that was almost adequate. She had arranged the boards across the saw horses to form two narrow tables that had crossbars near one end of each board. The planks had been rabbeted so that they fit together smoothly forming a cross. The tables were close enough together that the cross bars to each table almost touched each other but gave Shelly a nearly five foot space between the tables to move.

She wheeled Charlie over to the closest of these tables and taking a hold of the waist of his jeans hauled him up onto the plank. He groaned loudly as he hit the hard wood and she quickly tied a blindfold over his eyes. Then she laid his arms out on the cross boards and began to securely duct tape him to the table around his wrists and elbows, abdomen, hips, thighs, knees, shins and ankles. She wound the tape in an X from the armpit of one shoulder across his neck and over the top of his other shoulder. By doing this on both sides she had effectively pinned his upper torso to the plank but left his chest free of the tape. This entire process took close to ten minutes and by the time she had finished Charlie was moving his head from side to side trying to wake from the drug induced sleep he had been under since she had tranquilized him.

She examined her handiwork and determined that it was plenty secure then left Charlie to his thoughts as she made her way back out of the building with the wheelchair to collect Jon.

* * *

Don and David arrived at Cal Sci nearly forty-five minutes after Jon's call. The fire department had extinguished the blaze and the arson investigator was on scene and kneeling down next to the charred trash can examining a small blackened device. 

Don walked right up to him and showed his badge. "Is that what caused the fire?" he asked pointing to the device that the investigator was holding.

"No. The fire was caused by a type of pipe bomb." He indicated a shredded length of aluminum piping that sat smoldering a foot away from the mouth of the can. "This is a radio receiver and I believe it was attached to the bomb. This fire was set off from a distance with some sort of remote transmitter. I will need to have the bomb squad take the receiver apart to tell you more about the kind of remote used."

David knelt down next to the arson investigator and asked if he could see the device. Don looked around the east quad. A few students who were here late had gathered beyond the police tape to watch as the fire was put out and the investigators arrived to do their jobs. Campus security was interviewing those gathered to see if anyone knew anything about the explosion or who might have set it off.

David was also looking at the area. "Don this happened late, after almost everyone had left campus. If the bomb was set off remotely then the bomber was watching. Didn't O'Donnell say that the bomb didn't go off until he and Charlie were almost at the car? That trash can wasat least ten yards away from the parking lot."

Don had a terrible sinking sensation fill his body as he realized what had happened here tonight. "Yeah, yeah that's right. Jon used his remote to unlock the car doors and a second later the bomb exploded. Damn it! It was a diversion! The explosion would have drawn their attention away from the car and onto the walkway behind them." He pulled his phone from his waist and dialed Jon's cell only to have it immediately jump to voicemail. "Damn it!"

He tried Charlie's cell next and was surprised to hear it ringing. He motioned to David to start a trace from his phone. After four rings the phone picked up but there was no voice on the other end. "Charlie? Charlie can you hear me?"

Don could hear something in the background like rustling and then a voice answered him, only it wasn't Charlie's voice.

"I was wondering how long it was going to take you to call, Agent Eppes."

The voice was unidentifiable. The person on the other end was using a device to mechanically change their voice so that it sounded like an old style computer. If the call were being recorded then a voice analyzer might have been able to sift through the distortions and give a clearer sound to the voice but standing in the east quad parking lot of the Cal Sci campus, there was no way to record the call.

"Who is this, where is Charlie? Where is my Agent?"

"Agent O'Donnell was the next name on the list, but you should have known that. The clue was left with Agent Bliss."

Don felt his stomach do a flip flop. "What about Charlie? You have no beef with him; he isn't a part of this."

"You made him a part of this, Agent Eppes. That was a mistake, and now your precious little brother is going to pay the price for your mistake."

"Please don't hurt him." Don hated the pleading tone in his voice but he couldn't help it. His brother was in the hands of this brutal killer and it was all his fault.

"The trace should be nearly complete so our time is up. I'll give Charlie your love."

Then the line went dead. "No wait!" but it was too late. Don's phone dropped from his slack hand and he dropped to his knees. "Oh God, what have I done?"

**A/N –** The next chapter is going to be tricky to write and will take a great deal of finesse. I will warn everyone now that chapter twelve will be brutally graphic and if that is not your cup of tea, I would recommend that you skip directly to chapter thirteen when it is posted. You will not loose the general gist of the story.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - WARNING: **This chapter is told solely from Charlie's POV and is disturbingly graphic. Well at least it is supposed to be. For the translation of the Yiddish curse see the A/N at the bottom of the page. (I actually cleaned up the curse. It originally had some very STRONG language in it, but that seemed out of character for Charlie even given the circumstances.)

This chapter took a lot to work it out correctly. It went through MANY re-writes. Please let me know if the desired effect was achieved.  
Yours humbly,  
Alice

**Chapter Twelve**

Charlie fought his way through a foggy haze that made his mind feel numb. He slowly became aware that he was awake but couldn't see anything. He tried to open his eyes but there was a pressure on them and his lashes brushed against something. It took him a moment to shake off the last of the confusion before he realized that he had been blindfolded.

He tried to piece together what had happened. He and Jon were walking out of the computer lab and going to the car when something exploded behind them. Jon told him to get in the car and lock the doors which he did without complaint. He remembered watching out the driver side window as Jon drew his gun and started moving away from the car toward something about ten yards back on the path that was burning brightly. He thought it might have been a trash can but before he could decide what the object was he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck. That is the last thing he could remember.

His throat hurt and it was difficult to swallow. He moved his head and noticed that his neck felt sticky as though covered in something that wasn't quite dry. He tried to bring his hand to his neck and found that he couldn't move. The edges of fear began to prickle his senses.

He tentatively tried to move any part of his body. His hands were free but something was tying his wrists down. As he tried to move his hands the hairs on the back of his wrists were pulled. It was tape. He was tied up with some sort of strong tape. His wrists, elbows and shoulders were bound. He tried to move his body around and felt the binding around his belly, hips, thighs, knees and ankles.

'_Oh God, It's just like the victims. The killer somehow got in the car last night. Was it last night? Is it still night or the next day?'_

"Jon?" Charlie call out to the agent but his voice was harsh and scratchy. "Jon, are you there?"

Charlie's calls were met with silence. _'Maybe he is already dead. Am I going to die now, just like all of those other men?'_

Charlie felt the fear that had been growing in the pit of his stomach detonate into a fiery explosion of panic. He struggled violently against the bonds of tape holding him down, thrashing his head back and forth and wiggling his body as much as he could only to discover that the tape had no give to it. He had been securely bound but that didn't stop him from struggling frantically until he was gasping for breath.

"Help! Can anyone hear me!" Charlie shouted through the pain in his throat. His calls were hoarse but loud.

After calling for help in vain for nearly five minutes he was coughing and gasping. He forced his breathing to slow, and concentrated on the calming exercises that David had taught him.

'_If I panic, I'm as good as dead. Just breathe Charlie… just breathe.'_

Once he had a better grip on his raw panic he turned his right wrist as much as the tape holding it would allow and tried to feel around. He could make out the end of the wooden board that he was bound to. He stretched against the tape pulling hairs out of his wrist and his fingers came in contact with a second board.

'_Jon!'_

Charlie probed as far as he could with his fingers but felt nothing but the board. There was no hand there. He breathed a small sigh of relief that was cut short by a noise coming from his left.

It sounded kind of squeaky, like rubber wheels being rolled along the floor. Someone was coming. Charlie decided that the best move now was to play possum so he lay very still and tried to keep his breathing slow and even.

The sound was coming closer now. It passed the end of his feet and came up the right side of his body where it stopped. He could hear someone moving. The footfalls were light. Whoever it was, they were not particularly large. Then he heard another sound, one that he _did_ recognize. There was a squeak of metal on metal with an audible clink. It was the sound of the foot rests on a wheelchair being lifted.

Charlie had become familiar with that sound when his mother became too ill to move around the house easily and the sound sent a chill down his spine for more reasons that his current circumstances. He associated that sound with death; his mother's death and now possibly his own. The person who had been pushing the wheelchair moved around the chair and brushed up against the right side of his body. He heard a soft moan and knew that it was Jon.

If Jon was in the wheel chair then the killer was getting ready to tie him down the same way he had been bound. He needed to get Jon to wake up and fight _right now_! Charlie abandoned his game of pretending to be unconscious and began yelling as loudly as he could.

"Jon! Jon wake up! Jon can you hear me? Jon you have to wake up!"

The killer just ignored his shouts to the drugged agent. Charlie heard a quick intake of breath as the killer grabbed a hold of Jon and hoisted him up out of the wheelchair. He could hear a shuffling sound then a loud grunt as Jon was unceremoniously dropped onto the wooden plank next to him.

"Jon Please you have to wake up! Fight it, JON!"

The next sound Charlie heard was the wheelchair being kicked away from its position between the plank tables. The killer was breathing hard now. Jon was not a very small man; standing at least six foot two. Charlie heard more shuffling and a thud. He felt Jon's fingertips brush his own on the right.

Charlie took a deep breath and reached with all of his might against his own tape bonds and was able to touch Jon's fingers down to the first knuckle. He tried to shake Jon's limp hand while shouting.

"Jon, Oh, God, Jon wake up. WAKE UP!"

Charlie tried slapping Jon's fingers with his own but it was useless. All that Jon did was moan softly. The sound of tape being torn off a roll was so loud that it startled Charlie for a moment. He felt the brush of rubber gloved hands as the killer began to bind Jon's wrist nearest to him.

"No! JON WAKE UP! PLEASE WAKE UP!"

Charlie began struggling wildly against his taped prison and screaming as loud as he could but it was no use. By the time the sound of ripping tape stopped, Charlie's voice was so hoarse that he could barely speak. He was panting hard and his body was now covered in a cold sweat that turned to ice when a rubber gloved hand patted the side of his face accompanied by a tsk tsk from the killer.

Charlie balled his hands up into fists as raw anger flooded through him and he snapped his head forcefully toward the hand and tried to bite the fingers of his tormentor but they were snatched away too quickly. A moment later he felt the painful sting of one of those gloved hands slapping him hard across his face.

The killer then walked away from the bound men and once again Charlie got the distinct impression that the killer was not a large person. The gate was lighter than his own and there was a swishing sound as the killer walked like the sound that corduroys make when the legs rub together. The gloved hand that had slapped him was smaller than his and the fingers were thin. He could still feel the sting of that slap and was certain that if he could see his face there would be a clear red hand mark on his left cheek.

Jon had begun to breathe less evenly and was making half moaning half grunting sounds as he struggled to wake up. Charlie knew that there was nothing that either of them could do at this point. He reached out his fingers again to touch Jon's feeling only marginally comforted by the only contact he had with the other man.

He thought of his father and his brother. Would he ever see them again? He doubted it. The odds of anyone finding them were so remote that he couldn't even calculate it. He and Jon were going to die here in this place that they had been taken.

All Charlie could tell about his surroundings was that it was a large place as evidenced by the slight echo he heard when he was calling desperately for help. There was an odor that hung in the air like paint but not the kind you paint a house with. It was a more astringent scent and seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn't place why. He also knew that there was paper, and lots of it, in this place. The unique smell of reams and reams of paper always reminded him of the warehouse that his Uncle Abe used to take them to as kids. He worked for a newspaper and thought that the boys would like to visit the presses and watch how a newspaper was produced. Then it hit him what the sort-of paint smell was. It was print ink. They were in a place that printed either a newspaper or magazine.

'_This is either a publishing house or a newspaper. No wait it couldn't be a newspaper, they run their presses into the very early hours of the morning. We must be in some sort of magazine publication's print room. It's Saturday and the place would be shut down for the weekend. No one will find us until Monday. Oh God we really are going to die here.'_

Charlie's morose musings were interrupted by the sound of the killer returning and pushing something on loudly squeaking wheels. It wasn't the chair. It sounded larger like a cart of some sort.

The killer wheeled this cart between the men on the plank tables bumping the support leg on the table Charlie was bound to jarring him before it stopped. Charlie could hear various metal objects being shifted around before the killer picked something up and turned toward Jon.

Even though he couldn't see what was happening he got an almost spatial sense of the killer's actions from the sound of the movements and the sound of clothing brushing against the edge of the plank that Jon lay on.

Jon made a muted gurgling sound and Charlie got the impression that something had been put in his mouth. That didn't seem right. None of the other victims had been gagged in any way, nor had they been blindfolded, but then again this killer had never attacked two people at once before. Of course there was no way for him to know if Jon had been blindfolded as well.

This didn't make sense to Charlie. The killer was changing tactics and Jon had said that psychopaths felt compelled to follow through in their carefully made plans. This killer was doing things differently. There were two victims instead of one. One of the victims was not an FBI agent, like all of the other had been. One victim had been gagged in some way and one had been blindfolded.

'_I'm referring to myself as a victim. I don't want to die. I don't want Jon to die. Don! Please you have to find us.' _

Charlie started to breathe faster as a wave of panic washed over him. This was no panic attack. It wasn't all in his mind. He _was_ going to die and he was terrified. There was movement again and he felt something come close to his face. "Shhh" Charlie flinched away from the breath he felt close to his right ear. He could smell something, like a faint scent of Lavender soap.

Charlie wanted to be strong; to not give this killer the satisfaction of seeing his fear. He clenched his teeth together and through the terror he attempted to calm his nerves by trying to puzzle out what their abductor's motives were with this change of behavior.

The presence close to him moved away and he heard the pop of something plastic being crushed then the strong smell of ammonia assaulted his sense of smell. Jon's finger tips flexed against his and he could hear his head rocking back and forth probably to get away from the smell of the ammonia.

As consciousness swept over him, Charlie heard Jon begin to struggle against his bonds. He heard a startled cry come from the agent lying next to him then the frantic struggle to get out of the tape holding him down became intensified, much the same way he had fought to free himself. Jon was much larger and he battled to free himself with such violent force that Charlie could hear the legs of the table that he lay on buck and scrape against the floor.

Jon was trying to vocalize something but what ever had been put in his mouth was preventing his tongue from moving, but did nothing to muffle the sound. Charlie couldn't make out anything that Jon was saying but it sounded furious and frightened at the same time.

Without the use of his tongue Jon's words were nothing more that barely coherent sounds but Charlie could have sworn that the agent had turned his head and seen him and was trying desperately to call his name. The tone of his voice had changed from one of pure fury and now held a distinct pleading quality. Then Jon's finger tips locked with Charlie's and he was sure now that what he heard was Jon's frantic voice calling out his name. Charlie let Jon know that he could hear him by turning his face to the right and flexing his own finger tips against Jon's.

Jon's vocal tone changed again to one of anger and the change in pitch told Charlie that he was no longer looking at him but at the killer looming over them. He began to bang his head against the plank table. Charlie could feel the vibrations in the wooden cross piece where the agent's wrist was taped down.

There was a ripping sound of cloth being torn. Charlie felt something small and hard hit his right forearm. Jon's shirt had been ripped open and the buttons must have gone flying. Charlie could hear movement but nothing seemed to point to what the killer was doing now until Jon's hand reflexively tensed and began shaking as a strangled cry emanated from him.

Charlie could hear him fighting to control his cries, to not give into the pain. Charlie touched Jon's fingers again with his own and they locked their finger tips together. The killer began whistling the tune 'I left my heart in San Francisco'. Charlie couldn't believe how cavalier this person was about killing. A black rage was replacing the fear that consumed Charlie's heart only moments before.

"When my brother finds you I hope he puts a bullet between your eyes you sick bastard!"

Jon's breathing became ragged as he began to loose control of the pain. He flexed his fingers tips tightly against Charlie's as he fought not to scream.

The sheer terror that Charlie had been feeling had been completely drowned in the fury that had risen up in him like bile. He thought about reciting a litany of prime numbers in his mind but the anguished screams and staccato breaths coming from next to him along with the unmistakable coppery smell of blood belayed any chance of his success.

After what seemed an eternity of this torture Jon's hand went slack as his cries died out. The killer bent down and Charlie heard the clink of metal. There was a sickening squelching sound and a sort of scraping noise that turned Charlie's stomach. If he had eaten anything he was sure that he would have vomited as his mind drew a dire picture to match what he was hearing.

There was another crushing sound followed by the strong odor of ammonia again. Jon was moaning now and it sounded like he was rocking his head back and forth once more. He could hear the chink of metal instruments being fitted together and a cranking sound like you might hear when using a ratchet. Jon began to scream and Charlie began to cry.

'_How can this be happening?...  
__Where is Don?...  
__He's not coming to the rescue this time...  
__Please God, make this stop.'_

Jon's screams had once again subsided but he was still breathing heavily as though in incredible pain. He was trying to speak again andby the sound of his voice he had turned his head toward Charlie.

"I – O - ARE E - ARE E"

Charlie couldn't believe what he was hearing. It sounded like Jon was saying that he was sorry. How could that be? This man whom he had only known for a day, who was being brutally murdered at this very moment was trying to apologize to him? Charlie reached for the agent's…  
no…  
…for his friend's fingers once again.

The killer had bent over again and after a moment Charlie heard the most horrifying sound he had ever heard in his life. The high pitched sound of a saw being turned on filled the empty space of the room. He squeezed Jon's finger tips as his head and hands jerked. The scream that Jon uttered now was like nothing Charlie could have imagined in his worst nightmares. The high pitched buzz of the saw became lower and slightly muted as it hit the bone and began to saw through it.

The sound of Jon's screaming at this new assault to his tortured body nearly drowned out the saw, and Charlie felt small warm droplets spray onto his face and neck. He knew it was the splatter of Jon's blood and even though his stomach was empty he began to retch.

After what seemed like hours the pitch of the saw increased dramatically and then it stopped all together. Jon had stopped screaming and was now breathing quickly and shallowly. His voice was hoarse and ragged and was interspersed with choking sobs.

There was another sound of metal clinking only with a deeper resonating quality. What ever the killer had picked up was heaver and larger than the last device used. Again Charlie heard a squelching and scraping and then the sound of metal pieces being fitted together. This time the device that was being used had a sound more like a crank than a ratchet being tightened and it was followed by the popping sounds of bone being forced apart.

Jon didn't seem to have any strength left to scream and moaned and grunted loudly as the sound of splintering bones filled the now relative silence. Charlie was still touching Jon's fingers but they were now slack and weak. There was another small crushing sound followed by the ammonia smell, and then another, until Jon began to shake his head and groan louder.

Charlie could hear the movements of the killer but could no longer imagine what was happening. His mind had gone numb. He tried not to think about what was happening only a couple of feet from him when there was an odd sort of tearing sound and a warm splash hit him in the face. Jon's hand had gone completely lifeless and Charlie knew that he was dead.

Charlie's blindfold was wet with his tears and the blood of the agent who had tried to protect him from this deranged individual. _'I love you Dad. I love you Don.'_ The thoughts of his family were the only things keeping him sane at the moment for he knew as the person who had done this to Jon turned and ran a wet slimy hand down the side of his face, that he was about to die.

The hand traveled down his chin and neck then down to his shirt. He felt that hand grab a hold of his tee and a sharp pain erupted just above his breast bone as the killer used something sharp to cut a slit in the material. Then two hands grabbed the cotton and ripped his shirt apart.

Charlie began to hyperventilate as wet sticky hands ran over his chest. The smell of blood was overpowering and he began to retch again. The hands moved away and he could hear the killer bend down again. _'God, please help me.'_

Alan's brother Abe was quite the potty mouth, much to his wife's consternation and had taught the boys most of the vilest curses in the Yiddish language. They were careful never to use such language in her presence lest they be forbidden to spend every third Sunday with their favorite uncle.

As Charlie lay there exposed to the whims of this psychopath blind fury and stark terror were vying for supremacy in Charlie's mind, and the anger won.

Charlie had a general sense of where this person's head was and spit as hard as he could hoping that he got them in the face, then shouted a curse in Yiddish at his attacker with a viciousness that was so uncharacteristic for him that he even sounded strange in his own ears.

"Shvuntz es im onkumn vos ikh vintsh im khotsh a helft, khotsh halb, khotsh a tsent kheylik!"

Charlie was rewarded with another vicious blow to his face, this time not a slap as before, but a hard knuckled punch. The punch had hurt the killer because there was a sharp intake of breath. He could hear the gloved hand moving vigorously and he was splattered with more droplets as the killer shook a painful hand.

Charlie laughed. "What's the matter? Did that hurt?"

He heard the sound of a paper being torn from a pad or notebook. Then there was a slight squeak followed by a smellslightly like acetone. Then he heard the sound of writing. After a moment the paper was placed on his bare chest then he felt heavy cold metal press down on his breastbone. The pressure increased and was followed by a loud click and a strong concussion against his chest. There was horrific pain that caught Charlie by surprise and he screamed in agony. The metal moved over to the left by a few centimeters and the pressure increased again before the next concussion and more pain.

He could feel blood dripping down the side of his chest from the wounds and the burning sensation from having something literally nailed to him distracted him from the sharp pinch in his right arm at the elbow.

His thoughts started to become thick and slow as the sounds of the killer became dull and muted. The burning throb in his chest started to fade as he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

The translation of the Yiddish curse is:  
"Let what I wish on this coward come true; most, even half, even just 10 percent." 


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N -** Thank you for all of the reviews. I guess the effect I was looking for in chapter 12 worked judging from what many of you said. This chapter is a little long and very angsty for Don. Please enjoy and feel free to voice your opinions. Some of you may not be too pleased with how I wrote Alan in this chapter but after considerable thought it seemed quite plausible to me.

Enjoy,  
Alice

**Chapter Thirteen**

Alan had long since finished dinner and had set aside four plates of food for Charlie, Don, David and Agent O'Donnell. Don had called him earlier and told him that he had assigned an agent to stay with Charlie which made Alan breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed lately, that the family home had become a bit a of second Bureau office since this FBI Killer had appeared in LA and started killing agents.

Alan didn't mind all of the activity. He made it his business to keep a pot of hot coffee and lots of left-overs available for who ever showed up. This way he felt like he was doing his small part to help the investigation. It also kept his mind less occupied with the fear for his eldest that needled him nearly constantly since all of this had begun.

He and his friend Stan had put a lot of work into their consulting business but Stan had taken over the bulk of the work over the last couple of weeks as Alan felt more and more of a need to be home and available to his sons. Alan had confided in Stan about his concerns not only for Don but how worried he had become over Charlie's reaction to the case. Stan understood clearly how his new partner was feeling and had assured him that he should be there for his family and not to worry about any of the client meetings that had been arranged for the month.

It was getting late and Charlie had not come home yet. Alan thought about going down to the university and trying to drag him away from his work but decided that the agent assigned to him probably had orders from Don to do just exactly that after a certain hour.

Don usually pushed Charlie harder for an answer when he was consulting on a case that had no discernable results so Alan was somewhat stunned to learn that Don had actually considered pulling Charlie from this case because of his anxiety attacks. Alan had tried to convince Charlie to step away from this case without success and David told him that he had also spoken with Charlie about backing out but his youngest had a powerful stubborn streak.

As much as Alan hated what was happening, Charlie had made a valid point. Don needed him and he knew it. If anyone could decipher the code left by this killer it was Charlie.

After cleaning the kitchen, washing up all of the dishes and making a fresh pot of coffee Alan went into the living room and flipped on the eleven o'clock news. It bothered him that he had not heard from either of his sons yet this evening and he was hoping to distract himself from the gnawing worry that had started up yet again.

He had picked up the newspaper and planned on doing the crossword puzzle while he listened to the news but the lead story made him sit bolt upright in his chair.

"An explosion at a local university sent the Pasadena fire department on high alert this evening. There was apparently a pipe bomb explosion at Cal Sci which has drawn the attention of not only the arson investigators but the FBI as well."

The camera zoomed in on Don and David standing next to the smoldering ruin of what looked like one of those wire mesh trash cans that are placed all around the walkways. Don was talking on his cell phone and the look on his face drew Alan right out of his chair. His son looked stricken and the news woman reporting the explosion also seemed to see this as her report went on.

"Could this have something to do with the FBI Killer? The agent in charge, Don Eppes, looks as though something far more serious than a pipe bomb explosion may have occurred here this evening…"

Alan watched the face of his son and felt his stomach drop out when Don dropped his phone and fell to his knees. Alan was out the door before the reporter had finished her next sentence.

The ride to Cal Sci took all of five minutes. Alan brought his car to a screeching halt at the far end of the east quad parking lot. The rest of the lot had been roped off by the police and fire department. Alan got out of his car and started for the quad when he was intercepted by a police officer.

"I'm sorry sir, you can't go over there."

"That's my son over there!" Alan said frantically pointed toward Don who was huddled around at least a half dozen agents.

The officer wasn't convinced and still refused Alan to go past. "Don!"

Don looked up at the sound of hid father's voice and felt his heart jump into his throat. "Oh my God, what is he doing here?"

David patted Don on the shoulder before walking quickly over to where Alan was still trying to get past the police officer. As he approached he pulled his ID out and addressed the officer. "Its ok officer, he's with us."

The policeman looked curiously at David. It was quite obvious that Alan was a civilian and did not belong behind the lines of a crime scene, but the FBI had higher authority here than his department. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped aside and Alan practically charged past the man.

"David, I saw you and Don on the news. What happened? Where's Charlie? David, I have to know."

They both walked quickly back toward the scene and Don met them halfway. He had regained his professional decorum quickly after his initial shock. One of the Pasadena police officers had seen the TV crew filming Don as he spoke on his cell phone and stepped up in front of the camera blocking the view. The camera man tried to get a shot of Don as David helped him to his feet while the reporter complained about first amendment rights. The officer simply stated that this was an ongoing investigation and the press was not welcome to interfere. This elicited an argument from the reporter that the officer knew he would loose but he had accomplished what he had set out to do. Don had recovered from his shock and had moved off with David out of the line of sight of the cameras.

As Don approached his father his stomach clenched. _'How do I tell him that Charlie has been taken by this mad man?'_ Alan stared right into Don's eyes and felt his heart sink.

"What happened, Donnie? Its Charlie isn't it? Tell me the truth, son."

Don glanced up to make sure that the cameras couldn't intrude on this moment and placed a hand on his father's shoulder steering him around the back of the fire truck away from the camera and the assembled agents.

"Dad, another agent has been abducted."

"And Charlie? Where is Charlie, Donnie?"

Don placed both hands on his father's shoulders before answering. "Charlie was with him and was also taken."

Alan knew what Don was going to say before he said it but that didn't lessen the impact of hearing the fact that his youngest son was now in the hands of a deranged killer. "Why Donnie? Why did he take Charlie? He's not an FBI agent! Damn it Don! Why did he take my boy?"

Don had no answer for his father. He couldn't bring himself to repeat what had been said to him by this killer about Charlie paying the price for his mistake. "I shouldn't have let him stay on this case, Dad. This is all my fault."

Alan sat down hard on the bumper of the fire truck. "Charlie was taken because he was working on this case; because he was working with you?" Alan felt a palpable fear well up inside of him. That fear turned quickly to anger and he lashed out at Don. "I've told you before that this is not the life that Charlie chose for himself and I've asked you **_not_** to choose it for him! This should never have happened. Your brother is a teacher. He doesn't belong in your world!" Alan's voice rose as fear took hold of his heart. "How is he going to live through this, when none of the trained agents who have encountered this maniac have?"

Don stepped back stunned by his father's words. He had voiced the deepest fear in Don's own heart. There is no way that Charlie would not survive if they didn't find him before this killer…  
Don couldn't even finish the thought. The sense of guilt that he had been feeling came crushing down like an anvil had been dropped on him. Alan got up and pushed past his oldest. He regretted what he had said but there was so much fear and anger rolling through him at that moment that he couldn't take it back no matter how much the rational side of him wanted to.

Don reached out to his father. "Dad…"

Alan turned and looked at Don. His face was a mask of pure fury mixed with fear as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. "You go find your brother. Find him before its too late!" With that, Alan turned and walked away without looking back.

* * *

Don didn't blame his father for what he had said to him. He was absolutely right. His father's last words echoed over and over in Don's head. _'You go find your brother. Find him before its too late!'_

Don rejoined the group of agents who were pointedly avoiding his direct gaze. Alan's angry words had been heard by all of them and they each harbored their own thoughts about how right or fair they thought the encounter was. Don took a moment to look over the agents who had come directly to the Cal Sci campus. He waited until he had everyone's eyes on him.

"All right people, you heard my father. We need to find them before we loose another agent or our consultant. Forty-five minutes passed from the time Jon called in the bombing and I spoke with the killer. I am assuming that by that time they had already arrived at their destination and both Jon and Charlie had already been subdued. Let's figure at least ten to fifteen minutes to knock out both of them and secure them. That would have given them a drive time of somewhere between fifteen and thirty minutes."

Don laid out a map of Pasadena and the surrounding territory on the hood of his SUV.

"That is going to give us an approximately fifty mile square territory to cover since we do not know what direction traveled when they left."

"What about the PEMS system that Charlie showed us? Cant the traffic cams at least give us a direction to start in?" Megan asked looking carefully at the map.

"I have called Merrick and he has gone into the office to coordinate communications. He will be logging into the PEMS system and has also put out a high alert APB on Jon's car. LAPD have been authorized to use two of their aerial units to help us locate the vehicle. As soon as we have a direction we can narrow the search, but until then I want everyone to take a grid."

Don pulled a marker out of his jacket pocket and drew a large grid like a tic tac toe board across the map.

"We are separating from our pairs so that we can cover a larger area more quickly. The killer is occupied so there is no chance of anyone else being abducted right now. Megan you take this section between Pemberton moving south down to Lexington and as far west as Berkshire. Colby you have Berkshire from Lexington east to Hillshire and north up to Jackson. Bryan you take the next section that runs parallel to Colby from Hillshire down to the ten…"

By the time everyone had their grid assignments it was eleven thirty. "Remember people, this killer is not going to choose a crowded place like a mall or establishment that is open. Concentrate on places that are closed for the weekend. Let's move. Call anything that you find into Merrick immediately. He will coordinate us with LAPD, so take your ques from him."

Don and David were going to drive together because there simply wasn't time to go and get David's car. As they got in and drove out of the parking lot toward their search area David turned to Don. "If we believe that the killer was outside Charlie's house the other night then how is it that Jon was the next intended victim? What was the killer doing there if not scoping out your movements or mine?"

"Charlie. He was looking at Charlie, not you or me. If Jon was the next target then the only thing that makes sense is that assigning Jon to Charlie was a pure stroke of luck to our killer. He said that Charlie was going to pay the price for my mistake. Getting him involved with this case _made_ Charlie a target."

They drove in silence for a time before Don started speaking in a voice that sounded strained and hopeless. "David, I should have listened to you. I should have pulled Charlie from this case as soon as you told me what was happening with him."

"Don, you can't blame yourself for what happened. Charlie wouldn't hear of backing away from this. I tried and so did your father. Charlie can be kind of stubborn you know."

"Dad" Don said it quietly his voice full of pain. "God, David if anything happens to Charlie…  
He'll never forgive me. I won't be able to forgive myself."

All the time that Don was speaking he was scanning the streets and back alleys for Jon's car. David was also scanning his side of the road.

"Don, you're father was upset and scared. I really don't think he meant to sound so harsh."

"Harsh or not, he was right. Charlie is a mathematics professor, not an FBI agent. Dad's right he _doesn't_ belong in my world, David and I keep dragging him in. He should never have been brought in on this case. I've come to rely on him too much and it has to stop."

'_I just pray that I still have a choice to pull the plug on the consulting.' _

The only sighting that was reliable on the PEMS system showed Jon's car leaving the campus and turning west. The agents were informed of this and two had been reassigned to different search grids but it was still a huge territory to cover. It was past midnight and Jon's black Lexus was not going to be easy to spot in the dark. Don had tried Charlie's cell again only to have it switch immediately to voice mail. The killer had obviously turned the phone off after his first call.

The night passed by slowly with no results and Don was becoming more and more agitated. The strain was really beginning to show when Don had started to loose focus and nearly drove into a parked car but he refused to stop until they found Charlie and Jon. At that point however David took over the driving.

Horrific images kept invading Don's thoughts which kept enough adrenaline pumping through him that he couldn't have slept if he wanted to. Don thought of his father and the look of anger and fear in his eyes several times throughout the night. If he didn't find Charlie soon enough he knew that he would never be able to look his father in the face again. There wouldn't be anyone left for him; his whole life would be meaningless.

'_You go find your brother. Find him before its too late!'_

By five thirty Don and David had finished their search grid and found nothing. Don had called Merrick to check on the progress of the others only to find that everyone else had come up empty as well and Don slammed his fist against the dash. David turned the SUV around and started to head toward downtown LA.

At quarter to six the sun was coming up and Don's cell rang shrilly. "Eppes! Where? We can be there in ten minutes, have LAPD secure the scene."

David was looking expectantly at Don.

"LAPD found Jon's car in the back parking lot of Bell Publications on New High Street near North Main and West Arcadia. Step on it David! Colby will probably get there first he's at Broadway and Temple. Megan's at Grand and Sunset. They will move in as soon as they arrive."

'_Please, God don't let us be too late.'_

David punched the accelerator and traveled south on Pasadena Ave down to North Broadway doing nearly seventy miles an hour. They arrived at the location within seven minutes and found Megan and Colby just climbing up onto the loading dock at the rear of the building.

Don jumped out before David had even stopped the SUV and ran full tilt over to Megan and Colby. An LAPD officer was waiting for the agents by the rear door of the building. The lock had been broken off. Colby pointed up to the corner of the building.

"Surveillance camera; if this is where he went in we may have just caught a break."

The LAPD officer stepped forward. "I'm officer Mick O'Hare. The lock was obviously broken. I went in but didn't hear anything. There is a long corridor that leads to the main printing room on the other side of the building. There are two bodies back there strapped with what looks like duct tape to a couple of make shift tables. I didn't get any closer to the bodies because I was told to only secure the scene. There was no evidence of movement anywhere in the print room or any of the offices along the corridor so I came back out here to wait for you guys."

Don had stopped hearing anything that officer O'Hare said after _'There are two bodies back there'._ The stricken look on his face registered on all present including the LAPD officer.

Megan placed a hand on Don's arm and felt his body shaking. "Don, maybe we should go in first."

Don didn't respond in anyway to Megan. He pulled open the door and drew his weapon. Megan, Colby and David followed closely behind him. Don checked all the corners as he proceeded forward down the corridor. His stomach had turned to ice and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

'_There are two bodies back there.'  
_'_You go find your brother. Find him before its too late!'  
_'_There are two bodies back there.'  
_'_I'm so sorry Dad.'_

When Don turned the corner into the large print room of the publisher he saw two tables made of crossed wooden planks screwed to saw horses. On each of these plank tables were the forms of Agent Jon O'Donnell, with his chest cut open and his heart removed, and his little brother Charlie.

Charlie was closest to him. He was blind folded and covered in blood. Something was on his bared chest. It looked like a piece of paper and as Don drew closer he could see that a sheet of thick paper like from a sketch pad had literally been stapled to his brother's chest. _'Oh God, Charlie!' _There was something written on the paper in black marker.

'Vado tergum ut vestri ordo cella magister'

Don lowered his weapon and by force of habit holstered it. He moved slowly over to Charlie as tears stung his eyes. He was too late. He had lost his little brother. Charlie had a deep laceration around his neck that had obviously bled quite a bit but as Don looked more closely he realized that a lot of the blood covering his brother's face and neck was not his. He looked over at Jon and that is when he noticed that Charlie's fingers were touching the agent's fingers. It looked as though they were trying to reach for each other.

Colby and Megan had come up beside Don quietly looking over the horrific scene. While David moved carefully around the tall stacks of paper to make sure the area was secure and that the killer was not still in the room.

"What is that? It looks like Latin." Colby said as he stared down at the paper that had two industrial sized staples through it affixing it to the young man's breast bone. Blood stained the top third of the page but the black marker was easy to read through the stain.

Megan was studying the words and a distinct note of hope entered her voice. "It _is_ Latin Granger. It says 'Go back to your class room professor'."

Don shot a quick look at her then back to his brother. He put a shaky hand on Charlie's neck and nearly fell to his knees as relief washed over him like a tidal wave. There was a pulse, strong and steady.

"He's alive! Call an ambulance!" Don turned his face skyward. _'Thank you God.'_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Don took the blindfold off of his brother and tried to rouse him. "Charlie? Hey buddy can you hear me?"

Charlie gave no response so Don started to pull at the tape binding him to the table. Colby stepped over and handed him a pocket knife so that he could cut through the thick tape. As Don hacked at the tape he kept speaking to Charlie trying to get a response but he just laid there still as death.

David came over to help by working on the tape around Charlie's legs. "The ambulance is on its way, Don."

Colby and Megan had moved over to examine Jon's body. The most immediate thing that they noticed was the fact that he had a roll of electrical tape forced into his mouth. This effectively kept him from being able to speak but the open center of the roll did not act as a muffler to his screams as he was butchered alive.

Colby was unnerved by the sight. He didn't know Jon that well but it was clear that the death of yet another agent had affected him. "Why semi-gag him? Why blind fold Charlie? And look, the numbers on his chest are even different. 505N97. He's put a letter in the code this time."

Megan was also registering the differences in this killing. She had no idea why the killer deviated in the code left on Agent O'Donnell's body, but she formulated a theory as to why Jon had been gagged and Charlie blindfolded.

"The killer never meant to kill Charlie, only to scare the hell out of him."

Don looked up at her then at Jon's lifeless form. "What?"

"Agent O'Donnell was gagged in a way that would allow his screams to be clearly heard by the killer and Charlie but he couldn't speak or form words. He couldn't say who the killer was. Charlie was blindfolded and secured the same way that all of the other victims have been and could only hear what was happening right next to him. This killer is known to his victims or to the FBI in general. He doesn't want his identity revealed. Don, you said that when you called Charlie's cell phone, the killer answered but used an electronic device to mask his voice so that you wouldn't recognize it. Don, I think you might know the killer. Only you would have called Charlie's cell and the killer said that he had been waiting for your call."

Colby paled slightly as he listened to Megan. "You think that Charlie was awake and aware while Jon was murdered? That he heard everything? God, I can't even imagine what was going through his mind."

"He probably thought that he was going to be next. I would be willing to bet that Charlie was conscious when the killer did _that_ to him." she said, pointing to the note stapled to Charlie's chest.

Don and David had finished cutting off the tape that held Charlie down. "Oh God!" Don tried to gently rouse his brother again without success. "So why won't he wake up?"

Megan bent closer to Charlie and lifted his arm gently. She could see a tiny puncture wound in the crook of his elbow as well as a small bruise. "Because he's been drugged."

Don felt cold all over. He put his hand on Charlie's neck again to assure himself that the pulse he had felt before was still there and found that it was. The pulse was steady but slow. Actually it seemed to be too slow. "Where is that ambulance?" he hissed as his apprehension mounted.

Don's question was answered by the shrill sound of sirens and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He looked again at his brother. His neck and face below where the blindfold had been tied were covered in dried blood. The wound on his neck clearly pointed to the fact that he had been garroted with something, probably a thin metal wire judging by the depth and precision of the cut. Then he looked at the bloody page stapled to Charlie's chest. The staples were the large industrial kind used for carpets or some other thick material. Had the ends of those staples hit his heart? Maybe that is why his pulse seemed too slow. _'Hang on, Buddy, help is on the way.'_

"We need to cut that off of him. It's evidence." Don said in an almost mechanical voice. "Colby, see about getting the tape from that surveillance camera on the loading dock."

Colby nodded and left the print room. Don's voice was tight and he was clearly struggling to maintain control. He was staring down at Charlie while his hands remained at his sides clenched into fists. _'I'm going to kill this bastard, if it's the last thing I ever do, that son of a bitch is going to die!'_

Megan moved over to Don and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He was coping with the sight of another dead agent and his tortured younger brother better than most people would, but the strain was starting to show. David came out of a small office on the other side of Jon's body with a pair of scissors. He handed them to Megan who very carefully cut the page of paper just below the staples from Charlie's chest.

She held the page carefully by the corner and placed it in an evidence bag that David had produced from somewhere. Don looked pale and ready to collapse. The EMT's had entered the building and were stopped by David before they could enter the printing room. He asked them for a sheet and told them to wait. He wanted to cover Jon's body. So far the press did not know the full extent of the brutality of these crimes and an information leak at this point could seriously hamper their investigation.

Once Jon was covered the ambulance personnel were allowed to come in and attend to Charlie. Megan pulled Don aside so that they had room to work and assess him. "Don, you need to call your father."

It took Don a moment to process what Megan had said. Don turned his gaze to her and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears as the meaning of her words registered through the shock and fatigue.

'_Dad.'_

Don reached for his cell phone and walked around the corner to call his father while Megan answered what ever questions she could that were being asked by the EMT's.

Don rode in the ambulance with Charlie to LA County General while David drove his truck back to the office to update Merrick and coordinate the crime scene forensics team. Alan said that he would meet them at the hospital and arrived shortly before the ambulance.

When Charlie was wheeled into the ambulance bay doors, Alan got his first look at his youngest son he froze momentarily, horrified at the sight, then tried to follow the gurney into the trauma area, but was stopped by an orderly.

This was the second time someone had tried to stop him from going to one of his sons and he had had enough. "That is my son you just took back there! Damn it let me pass!"

Don walked up behind his father and placed a weary hand on his shoulder. "Dad, we have to let them tend to Charlie. Come on lets get him checked in, all right?"

Alan spun around ready to lambaste Don for allowing this happen to his younger brother but stopped short. Don looked worse than he had ever seen him look before. He had deep circles under his red swollen eyes. His face was a picture of fatigue and defeat. He suddenly remembered his harsh words from the night before and truly regretted lashing out at Don. He wanted to say something to ease the pain that showed clearly in his older son's eyes but there wasn't anything that he could say to erase what had happened to Charlie so instead he pulled Don into a strong embrace.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry Dad. I…" Don's voice cracked as his control slipped. "I'm so sorry."

Alan swallowed his apprehension and patted Don's back lightly. "He's going to be all right Donnie. This wasn't your fault. He's alive, Don, you saved him before it was too late."

Don stepped out of his father's embrace looking even more beaten than he had a moment ago. "He's alive, but I didn't save him, Dad."

Don walked away toward the Emergency room front desk. There was no one in line because it was still so early in the morning so he walked right up to the window and gave his name while showing his badge. "Excuse me, my name is Don Eppes. My brother Charles Eppes was just brought in by ambulance."

The woman behind the desk looked quite tired and Don guessed that she was almost done with her shift. "What are the nature of his injuries, sir?"

"He was drugged, strangled and has puncture wounds to the chest. They took him back there somewhere." Don waved off toward the trauma area doors.

Alan took a seat stunned by what Don had told the receptionist about Charlie's injuries but his mind went back to what Don had just said about not saving him. The injuries sounded serious enough as far as he was concerned but why did Don feel that Charlie had not been saved?

Once Don had finished filling out the forms that they needed, he joined his father in the nearly deserted waiting room. Both men sat in silence for nearly an hour thinking their own thoughts.

"Donnie, I was out of line with you last night. This wasn't your fault."

Don didn't look at his father when he answered but his voice was flat and utterly drained, as if pure exhaustion had robbed him of all expression. "You don't have to apologize, Dad. You were right. I should never have gotten Charlie involved with this case."

The unadulterated defeat in his son's tone disturbed him beyond measure. "What did you mean when you said that you didn't save him?"

Don knew that he couldn't shelter his father from the nature of these killings any longer. What Charlie had been through would leave lasting emotional scars and for him to recover he was going to need the help of his father as well as Don.

Don glanced around to make sure that no one was close enough to over hear them talking then told his father about the details that had been kept from him regarding the brutality of these murders. Alan's face grew more and more pale as he listened to what had been done to these men.

"My God, Donnie! It's no wonder Charlie was having nightmares. What about Agent O'Donnell? I didn't see him brought in."

The look in Don's eyes frightened Alan more than anything he had felt thus far in his life. Even the news of his wife's cancer didn't send the cold wave of dread through him that the look in his oldest son's eyes did just now.

"Dad, Jon was killed the same way that all of the others were, and Charlie…  
Charlie was there for the whole thing. He had been bound the same way as the other victims and then blindfolded. Dad, he didn't see anything but he heard all of it."

Alan sat back in his seat and covered his face with his hands. The mental and emotional repercussions of this kind of torture could last a lifetime. He wondered how someone so evil could exist and function amongst civilized society.

Just then they both heard screaming coming from the trauma area. It was Charlie's voice. Don was on his feet in an instant, his bone numbing fatigue forgotten. He charged through the trauma room doors following the sound of his brother's frantic cries.

He pushed open a door to a large treatment room and found two bulky orderlies trying to tie his brother down with wrist and leg restraints and Charlie was fighting like a tom cat and screaming. "Get away from me!"

Don didn't even think about what he was doing. He reacted on pure instinct and adrenalin and ran forward slamming his shoulder hard into the side of the larger of the two men struggling with his brother, causing him to sprawl on the floor with a stunned expression.

Charlie was so panicked at this point he didn't see Don enter the room or tackle the orderly trying to tie his hands. The only thing he was aware of was that his hands were now free and he reached frantically over the bed rail for something he could use as a weapon to protect himself.

He grabbed a scalpel that had been set out on a sterile suture try next to the bed that he was in, and slashed clumsily at the man trying to tie his legs down. The man jumped back letting go of the restraints.

Charlie drew his feet up under himself and leap over the side rail of the bed. He landed on the floor stumbling and the burning ache in his chest erupted in an explosion of pain causing him to cry out and grab his chest with his free hand. He had wires attached to his chest for the heart monitor that had not been pulled off yet and Don could hear his brother's heart racing wildly. The monitor read 145 beats per minute.

"Charlie!"

Charlie heard his brother's voice but the panic had taken hold of him. He was gasping for breath and holding the scalpel out in front of him. He waved it in jerky motions as he tried to ward off anyone who attempted to come near him. Alan was only a few steps behind Don and saw what was happening. He walked straight forward past the stunned orderly on the floor, the doctor and the other personnel in the room and approached his son. Charlie saw someone coming close to him and he again waved the knife at the intruder.

"CHARLES EDWARD EPPES! Put that down this instant!" Alan said in a loud and commanding voice.

Charlie had obeyed that tone of voice from his father since childhood and in his confusion he reacted by rote and dropped the scalpel before backing further away from the people crowding around him.

Alan held out his arms as he walked right up to Charlie and took his trembling body into his arms. "You need to calm down now, son. I want you to breathe for me ok? Just like David showed you. Breathe with me, Charlie."

"They're trying to tie me up." Charlie whispered in a shaky voice. "Don't let them! Please take me home, Dad. I want to go home."

The heart monitor had slowed a little. Charlie's pulse was down to 110 but he was shaking badly.

"You can't go home yet, Charlie. These people need to help you first."

Charlie tensed up, feebly pushing his father away and shouted, "No! They want to tie me down. They don't want to help me, they're just like her! I won't let them get me!"

Don stepped up beside his father. "Hey, Buddy, I won't let them tie you down OK? But you have to calm down for me. Can you do that Charlie?"

Charlie looked up into his brother's face and some of the panic seemed to fade from his eyes. "You came."

"Yea buddy, I'm here and I'm not leaving all right? Now I need you to come back over here and lie down."

Charlie looked over at the bed, and shook his head. "No! I want to go home. Please Don, take me home."

The pain in Charlie's chest intensified sharply for a moment and took his breath away. Alan had begun to gently guide Charlie over to the bed while Don talked to him. He was concerned that Charlie seemed to be having difficulty walking. His legs jerked and his steps were unsteady.

"It hurts, Don" Charlie gasped.

"I know, Buddy. Let these folks help you. I promise I will stay right with you the whole time. I won't let anyone tie you down." Don looked pointedly at the orderlies as he said the last few words.

Alan had him almost to the side of the bed and Don noted with some relief that Charlie's heart rate was down to 89. Alan turned and while keeping one arm around his youngest he lowered the bed rail. Just then Charlie's pulse dropped to 40 and alarms went off as he collapsed.

Don was close enough that he was able to reach out and keep Charlie from cracking his skull on the hard cement floor. Alan grabbed Charlie around his chest and Don took his legs and together they picked him up and placed him gingerly into bed.

"What's happening?" Alan asked in a tight voice. Charlie had gone dead pale for a moment but now that he was lying down some color began to return to his face and his heart rate went back up to 71.

The doctor was checking over the monitor reading Charlie's heart rate. "He's just had a syncopal episode."

Don looked confused and glanced at the monitor again. "A what?"

"He experienced syncope. That is when your blood pressure and heart rate drop dramatically and cause you to pass out. As soon as the patient lays flat the heart rate and blood pressure usually come back to a normal reading."

Don's heart was slowing down a little as well and he turned to the doctor. "What the hell was that all about? Why were these men trying to tie him down?"

The doctor had been faced with angry family members before but never one who had tackled one of his staff and carried a gun which he looked nervously at before Don straightened his jacket concealing the weapon from sight.

"Please try to understand that the restraints were to protect your brother from harm. He became violent when he woke up."

Alan placed a soothing hand on his son's forehead. "My son has been through a horrific experience, Doctor. He was kidnapped, bound and blindfolded while his companion was murdered so how else was he supposed to react when these men tried to tie him up again?"

"I'm sorry; I was not made aware of the circumstances regarding you son's injuries. While he was unconscious we x-rayed him to determine if there was any damage done by the staples that were lodged in his breast bone. They had not impacted the heart so we removed them and sutured the wounds. This caused him enough stimulus that he began to awaken."

"Stimulus? You mean pain right?" Don said in an accusing tone which earned him a sharp look from his father.

"Yes it was painful for him. After examining the laceration in his neck I determined that butterfly bandages would work as well as sutures and wouldn't leave as much of a scar, so my surgical nurse, Marie, began to apply those bandages." The doctor indicated the nurse standing in the corner of the room. She had a hand sized red mark on her left cheek.

"While she was doing this your son came to and became violent. He began flailing his arms about and hit her soundly across the face. He started screaming to get away from him. He was going to pull out the sutures in his chest if we couldn't get him under control so I called for the restraints. That was about the time that you two came rushing in here."

Charlie opened his eyes again but they were unfocused, "Jon? Jon!"

Don bent down over his brother's bed so that he could see him. "It's ok Buddy, just relax."

"Don? You're here." Then his eyes slid closed as he passed out again.

Don glanced up at the heart monitor but the pulse still read in the low seventies. "Why does he keep passing out? Is it another one of those syncope things?"

The doctor picked up Charlie's chart from the stand next to the door and scanned it quickly. "No. His intake sheet said that he had been drugged so I ordered a STAT tox screen. We found high concentrations of Pentobarbital. That is a barbiturate that causes Somnolence. When he woke up he was disoriented and from what you have told me he must have been frightened. He is also experiencing ataxia. These are not particularly common side effects of the drug nor is the syncope, but they can be attributed to the large dose that he received. These symptoms should begin to abate once the drug starts to work its way out of his system."

This doctor was speaking in a language that Don didn't understand. "What does all of that mean? Ataxia and Somnolence? God, why can't doctors speak English?"

The doctor could understand Don's frustration and apologized. "I'm sorry; Ataxia is loss of muscle coordination. That is what we observed with his jerky and uncoordinated movements. Somnolence is a condition of semi consciousness approaching coma. He will continue to fade in and out of consciousness until most of the dose he received has left his blood stream."

The doctor turned to Marie and said, "I would like an EKG done because of the syncope episode. Would you mind?"

Marie smiled graciously at the Eppes men and left the room. When she returned with the unit she brought it over to Charlie's bedside and had to bend over him to affix the leads on his arms and chest. Charlie moaned and frowned as his head moved from side to side. His heart rate shot up sharply when he opened his eyes and looked up at the woman standing over him. He tried to move away from her to the other side of the bed and Alan bent down and tried to calm his son.

"Charlie, slow down, son. This nice lady just wants to listen to your heart."

Charlie brought his hands up to push her away. "No, get away from me." He began frantically clawing at the leads that she had placed on his arms and chest. "It's her! Help, Don it's her!"

Marie stood up and backed away looking confused by his behavior. She knew that he was confused and frightened but he only seemed to have this reaction when _she_ got close to him.

Don was at Charlie's side immediately. He pulled Charlie's hand away from his chest and held on tightly. "What's the matter, Buddy. What's wrong with her?"

Charlie's eyes were glazed and he was having difficulty catching his breath. "Lavender! It's her, she did it. Please, Don can't you see who it is?" Charlie's voice was getting weaker as he began to fall into another fitful doze again.

"Charlie, look at me. What about lavender? What does that mean?"

Charlie was so tired now that he almost whispered. "She was wearing lavender. She… was wearing, lavender." And his eyes closed again.

Marie stepped further away from the bed. "I washed my hair this morning before work. I use lavender scented shampoo. Is that why he gets so upset when I get close to him?"

Don gently shook Charlie's shoulder. "Who was wearing lavender, Charlie?"

Charlie had stopped panting and his pulse began to slow down. Again Don tried to get to the bottom of what was troubling his brother so much about the smell of lavender. "Who was wearing lavender, Charlie?"

Suddenly Charlie's eyes shot open. "She killed him, Don. I couldn't help him." Once more Charlie's eyes began to droop and he spoke as if falling into a deep sleep. "She was wearing lavender."

Don knew that Charlie was confused from the drugs used on him but this was no hallucination. Don needed to be sure he understood what his brother was trying to say. "Charlie, you have to wake up for me. Charlie, look at me. Come on Buddy open your eyes."

Slowly Charlie opened his eyes and stared up at his brother. What Don saw there almost made him take a step back. Charlie's eyes were empty. They seemed devoid of all emotion as if they were dead, like a doll's eyes.

"Charlie, are you telling me that this killer is a woman?"

A single tear rolled down the side of his face. "She was wearing lavender." Then his eyes closed again.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N- **I can't believe that I got this chapter done so quickly! The whole 'Famn Damily' has a terrible stomach bug that is running rampant through the schools! All the kids are sick including the baby and even hubby is flat on his back with it. Writing is my escape from the fun of life. I actually wrote this chapter in small segments. Fifteen minutes here, an twenty minutes there, ten minutes a little later... You get the idea. That may not have been very good for continuity. If it seems a bit choppy that is why.

**Chapter Fifteen**

The ED doctor had a different nurse come in and perform the EKG on Charlie while he pulled Don and Alan aside to talk to them.

"The injuries that your son received were not that serious…"

Alan's eyebrows shot up at this statement. Having someone use a staple gun on his son's chest and strangling him with something that left a cut around his neck deep enough to warrant extensive bandaging sounded like a fairly serious injuries to him.

"… but the use of Pentobarbital in a high dose has me somewhat concerned, not to mention the fact that he has been deeply traumatized by this experience. I want to admit him for overnight observation and when he has recovered enough from the barbiturate, I strongly recommend a physiological consult. I understand why the use of restraints in his case could be even more damaging to his emotional state, but I can not allow him to harm either himself or any of the staff here."

"My father and I will stay with him and make sure that he doesn't have any more problems. There will be no need to restrain him."

The doctor nodded and said that he would get the admission paper work under way then left the trauma room. By this time the EKG had been done and the nurse assured both Don and Alan that Charlie was doing just fine. The study was normal and it appeared that his heart had not suffered any adverse effects from the barbiturate overdose.

By the time they were ready to transport Charlie up to a room David and Megan had arrived at the hospital after escorting the medical examiner and Jon's body to the county morgue. They were escorted into the treatment room as they were getting ready to wheel Charlie's bed out to the elevator.

"How's he doing?" Megan asked.

"He has a long road ahead of him, but he's doing all right for now. Dad, I need to brief David and Megan. Can you go up with Charlie, I'll be along shortly." Don looked at the transport orderly. "It's room 4752, right?"

The man nodded to the agent and started pushing Charlie's bed toward the door when Charlie woke up again and grabbed the side rails in a white knuckled grip.

"What's happening? Don!"

Don moved over to Charlie's beside quickly. "Hey, it's ok, Buddy. You're going up o a room where it's a little quieter. I have to talk to David for a few minutes, and Dad's right here."

Charlie's eyes were shooting back and forth. "Where is she? Is she here?"

"No, Charlie she's not here. You're safe now."

Charlie seemed to accept this answer as his eyes slid closed yet again. Don exchanged an uncertain look with his father.

"Go on, Donnie; I'll make sure he gets upstairs ok. You need to bring your people up to speed. I'll see you in a bit."

Don led the other agents out of the Emergency Department and down the corridor toward the main lobby of the hospital. There were several lounge areas along this corridor and they found one that was unoccupied.

"What was Charlie saying just then? What did he mean by 'Is she here?'" Megan started without preamble.

"It appears that the FBI Killer is a woman."

This statement was met by stunned silence from both agents. David was the first to speak.

"Are you sure about this Don? I mean Charlie seemed pretty out of it just now."

"He is confused because of the effects of the barbiturate used on him, but I still believe him. It was how he acted that convinced me. Look I'll know more when he really comes out of it and I can ask him about what happened in that print room. Until then we need to get the files of all female instructors, employees and trainees from Quantico during the time frame that we have been working off of."

Don glanced at his watch then at David before continuing. "Did Colby get that surveillance tape?"

"Yeah, he's taken it into the tech guys. Hopefully video enhancement will give us a face or at least a partial face."

"Ok, it will take until tomorrow to get all the files from Quantico so in the mean time we need to start re-interviewing all of the friends and family members again." Don turned to Megan. "We are going to need a whole new profile for this killer. Go over all of the victim files and let me know what you come up with. I'm going to be here until Charlie comes out of the effects of the drug."

Megan touched Don's forearm to get his full attention. In a gentle voice she said, "Don, you're tired and it's obvious that you won't be getting any sleep soon. You are too close to this situation to interview Charlie. I'm the forensic psychologist and Charlie isn't my brother. I should do the interview."

Don stared at her not really knowing how to feel about her statement. Charlie was his brother and what he had been through was beyond horrifying. He knew perfectly well that there was no way in hell he could be objective as his thoughts from earlier reemerged in his mind.

'_I'm going to kill this bastard, if it's the last thing I ever do, that son of a bitch is going to die!'_

Megan was right; she should be the one to conduct the debriefing. If any other agent were in his position that is the decision that he would make.

"All right Megan, but I want to be present. After what happened in the treatment room, I want to be there to calm him down if he looses it."

David looked startled by this statement. "Did he have another anxiety attack?"

"No, I don't think so. Well sort of actually, but that was after he flipped out. The nurse who was helping him was wearing lavender and that is apparently what the killer was wearing. He panicked and tried to get away from her and ended up hitting her, so they tried to restrain him. When I came into the treatment room he was fighting like a Tasmanian devil trying to get away from everyone near him. The doctor said that if he gets violent again they won't have any choice but to restrain him, but I won't let that happen."

David and Megan told Don to try and get some rest and headed back to the office. Don wearily made his way to the elevators and up to the room that Charlie was in. During the course of the day and evening Charlie woke several times usually disoriented and agitated but would fall quickly into a fitful slumber after Don or Alan spoke reassuring words to him.

By evening Don was so exhausted that he just sat in the chair next to Charlie's bed staring off into space. Alan brought him a cup of coffee and had to shake him slightly to get his attention after calling his name at least four times with no response.

"Don you have to get some sleep or you will be the next person to wind up in the hospital. When was the last time you slept anyway?"

Don took the coffee gratefully from his father's outstretched hand and thought about it. "What time is it?"

"It's 7:45 Sunday evening."

Don scrubbed his hand down his face and sat back in the chair. "I'm not sure; I think it was Friday night; for a few hours anyway."

"That is exactly my point. You need to sleep. Go home for a while. I'll stay here with him."

Don took a sip of the coffee and shook his head. He knew that his father was right and that he desperately needed at least a couple of hours of sleep, but there was no way in hell he was going home until Charlie woke up and could speak coherently.

"There's a small lounge down the hall. I'll go stretch out on the couch for a few hours. Why don't you wake me around midnight so that you can take a turn?"

Alan understood Don's desire to stay in the hospital and truthfully he thought that it was wise to have Don close by if Charlie had another bad episode as he shook off the effects of the drug.

By morning both Don and his father had gotten some spotty sleep. Larry came by the hospital in the early morning and brought fresh coffee and bagels for the Eppes men.

Larry had left the campus Saturday evening shortly before Charlie and Jon. Later he too had seen the news broadcast and Don's reaction to some phone call. The fact that Alan was not answering the phone or Charlie his cell, boded ill for a good report. He couldn't even get through to Megan so unable to contact anyone for information he spent a restless night filled with bad dreams about Charlie and the agent who was watching over him.

Late on Sunday afternoon Megan called Larry. She met him at his place and told him of Charlie's kidnapping and the fact that yet another agent had been killed. Larry was very upset to learn that Charlie had been injured by this killer but was overwhelmingly relieved that he had survived the encounter. She advised him to wait until morning to go to the hospital to give the Eppes family time to adjust.

Megan had kept much of the details of Charlie's abduction to herself, which was just fine with Larry, but it did not prepare him to see his young friend with a bandage surrounding his neck and on his chest and a black and blue bruise across his right cheekbone.

"Has he woken up yet?" Larry whispered as he set the coffee and bagels down on the tray table.

Don thankfully took one of the coffees and two packets of Splenda that Larry had also brought. "He wakes up for moments, some longer than others but he is usually kind of out of it when he does. A large dose of Pentobarbital was used to drug him and the effects should wear off soon. The doctor seemed to think that he should start becoming more aware some time later this morning."

Alan also took a cup of the coffee and sat in the chair on the far side of Charlie's bed leaving the chair next to Don empty for Larry. "Have a seat Larry. Thanks for the coffee. We could both use it; it's been a long night."

Larry declined with a shake of his head as he scratched his chin nervously, never taking his eyes off of Charlie. "I'm afraid I can't stay. I did want to check on you and Charles. Do you have any idea how long he will be in the hospital?"

Alan smiled for the first time that morning. "Actually he might be able to come home today. His physical injuries are not that serious. The problem lies with how well he handles the other…  
…damage once he wakes up."

Larry did not press for an explanation to Alan's hesitation or choice of words. Megan had not told him exactly what had happened but he suspected that Charles had witnessed the death of this other agent. From what he had **_not_** heard from David, Megan and Charlie about these murders he was certain that the man's death was gruesome and therefore emotionally traumatic to witness.

"If there is anything at all that I can do, please call me. Right now I have to meet with the Dean and there is a faculty meeting that I must attend."

Don left the room to call into the office for an update on how the new leads were going. Colby had indeed gotten the video surveillance but it yielded no results for the killer was wearing a long sleeved hooded poncho.

The camera did show the driver's side of Jon's car as it pulled up and came to a stop. There was no movement for at least five minutes then the camera picked up the hooded figure pushing a wheelchair up the ramp of the loading dock with a slumped Charlie hanging listlessly to one side as they disappeared from view upon entering the building.

After another fifteen minutes you saw the figure reemerge with the now empty wheelchair and approach Jon's car on the driver side. The killer opened Jon's door and pulled the chair right up to the open driver's side then locked the chair in position at an angle to the open door. Then the figure reached into the car and pulled out the tall form of Agent O'Donnell. His arms were draped loosely around the killer's neck while _she _held the agent by his waist band. Once the two figures were standing the killer pivoted Jon and allowed him to fall into the wheelchair.

The face of the killer was completely covered so no amount of video enhancement would help to identify her. The files that the team had requested from Quantico had arrived and the team all began going through them. Megan had completely revised her profile of the killer based on the new information given by Charlie. By 9:30 in the morning the office was buzzing with activity as every agent took a stack of files.

Don asked Megan to come to the hospital so that she could interview Charlie when he woke up which by the way he was acting seemed like it would be soon. He had begun to move his head a little and mumbled in his sleep.

As Don walked back into Charlie's room he was relieved to see his brother slowly open his eyes and blink a few times to clear his vision. Don stepped right up to the side of Charlie's bed as he looked around in confusion. When Charlie turned his head and saw Don and his father standing there looking both worried and relieved he knew that what he had experienced was real.

"It wasn't just a bad dream." He said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

Don took a hold of Charlie's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "It wasn't a dream."

"Jon… he's dead." This was a statement rather than a question and the pain in Charlie's eyes nearly broke Don's heart.

"I'm sorry, Buddy."

Charlie turned his face away from his family. He had a mixture of emotions boiling inside of him and didn't know what to do or what to say. After a few moments he said, "Why… Why am I here? Why didn't she kill me too?"

Don was about to say something to his brother when Charlie turned his face toward them again. "It's a woman you know. This killer is a woman."

"A woman who wears lavender."

Charlie looked startled by what Don had just said. "How… How did you know that?  
Did you catch her?...  
Did you kill her?"

Even though Charlie's voice was a little scratchy from being strangled the change in his tone and the look in his eyes when he had asked if Don had killed her shocked them. There was a cold hatred in Charlie's voice that was so out of character that neither of them could say anything immediately. They exchanged a very concerned look before Don mastered his expression.

"Charlie you were drugged with a high dose of a barbiturate called Pentobarbital. You woke up a few times but you were pretty out of it. You did say that the killer was a woman and that she had been wearing lavender."

"Why didn't she kill me?"

Alan was getting very concerned now. He was afraid that Charlie was experiencing survivor's guilt but he was mistaken. Don sat down next to Charlie also extremely worried about his brother's mental state.

"We don't think that she ever meant to kill you, Charlie. She wanted to frighten you so that you wouldn't keep working on this case."

What ever Don and Alan had expected or prepared themselves for didn't lessen the shock that they felt seeing the cold hard stare from Charlie. "She should have."

"My God, Charlie! Don't say that. Your brother and I thought that we had lost you. You're upset right now, and who could blame you. What you need now is to rest and recover from this experience."

Just then the attending physician walked into the room. He approached the bed with a smile and a cheery voice. "Well it's good to see you awake and alert Mr. Eppes. How are you feeling?"

Charlie wanted to yell at his father for telling him that all he needed was rest. He wanted to scream at Don for not finding them soon enough to save Jon. He wanted to get up out of that damn hospital bed and shake some sense into the doctor for asking such a ridiculous question. Charlie had so much rage swirling around inside him that he just wanted to lash out at anyone near him, but his logical mind spoke louder than the rage. If he wanted to get out of this hospital he was going to have to play along with this man.

"I want to go home." he said in a quiet voice.

"Well then, I am going to need to do a full exam. I want to check the sutures in your chest and neck, and test your motor functions."

"Why do you need to check my motor functions?" Charlie asked in a nervous tone. He began moving his arms and legs to make sure that he could.

"Mr. Eppes, you were under the influence of a strong barbiturate which impaired your motor functions for a while. I just need to make sure that you have full command of yourself before I can sign a release. You have been through a tremendously traumatic experience and I would like you to have a psychological evaluation as well."

Don spoke up at this point. "Doctor what exactly would a psychological evaluation entail?"

The doctor addressed his response to Charlie rather than Don. "Do you remember anything that happened to you?"

Charlie looked from the doctor to his father then finally to Don. He stared into his brother's eyes and said, "I remember everything."

"You will need to talk about this experience with the Psychologist."

Again Don spoke up. "Um, that is going to be a problem. What Charlie experienced is part of an ongoing investigation and the information is classified. We have our own forensic psychologist coming in to talk to him about what happened. I understand that your person would be required to keep anything said confidential, but with the nature of this investigation we simply can not risk any kind of leak."

The doctor seemed somewhat affronted by the interruptions and he nodded curtly at Don. "I will need to consult with your Psychologist before I am willing to sign his release. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me. I need to examine Mr. Eppes. There is a lounge down the hall where you can wait. I'll send someone to inform you when I have finished."

When Megan arrived on the fourth floor Don flagged her down from the hallway outside the lounge which was near the elevators. They spoke briefly out in the hallway before joining Alan in the lounge.

"How are you holding up Mr. Eppes?"

"It's been one hell of a weekend; but I'm all right Megan. So you are going to talk to Charlie. Can I be there when you speak to him?"

Megan sat down next to Alan on the couch and put a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry Mr. Eppes but I will need to speak to him alone. The emotional trauma of this experience is overwhelming and he will be able to speak more openly with me than with you… at first anyway. I'm not trying to say that Charlie wouldn't trust you enough to share what happened, but this is not going to be an easy interview and it would be better if it were just the two of us. I am sure that there is little need to worry about a drug induced outburst at this point."

Megan gave Don a pointed look as she finished. He looked as though he were about to argue with her so she fixed him with an unflinching gaze that clearly said 'Don't even try.'

"I'll be taping the interview so you will know everything that is said, but Charlie needs to be free to speak his mind and he may not feel comfortable doing that with either of you this soon."

Don sat down and opened his mouth to say something but stopped and closed it again. He seemed to be thinking hard and after another moment he seemed ready with an argument but Megan simply stared him down until he slumped back against the couch in defeat.

No matter how much he wanted to be there when Charlie relived this experience he knew that Megan was right. His emotions would adversely impact the interview. He considered telling Megan about what Charlie had said about wishing that this person had killed him too but stopped himself because he did not want to influence her judgment.

Nearly an hour had gone by since the doctor had asked them to leave so that he could examine Charlie. Don had started pacing impatiently and Alan picked up an old copy of Readers Digest to keep his mind off of Charlie and Don's pacing. Alan was about to ask Don to sit down when a young nurse stepped into the lounge and told them that the doctor had finished with Charlie and would be back to talk with them after the psychologist had conducted the interview and consulted with him.

Megan gave Alan's hand a squeeze then stood up. She put her hand on Don's shoulder as she walked past him and whispered "This will take a little while. Go get your dad some coffee and a sandwich ok."

Don trusted Megan completely but he couldn't stop himself from saying "Go easy on him."

Megan smiled and walked down the hall to Charlie's room. When she entered she found him sitting up in bed staring out the window at the early afternoon sunlight. She knew that he had heard her enter the room but he didn't turn to look at her.

"Hey, Charlie; how are you feeling?"

Charlie still didn't look at Megan but he could hear her sitting down next to him and heard the sound of her setting something on the tray table. He finally turned around and saw that what she had pulled out was a small tape recorder. "I know that there is no way out of this…  
…interview." Charlie said in a quiet voice. "I…" He sighed in a resigned way and said, "Let's just get it over with so that I can go home."

Megan switched on the recorder and pulled out a small pad and pencil. "Charlie, how much do you remember about your kidnapping and Agent O'Donnell's murder?"

"I remember everything. I wish I didn't. I remember every sound, every smell…" Charlie's voice faded to a whisper. "…every touch." He looked up into Megan's face for the first time and his eyes held fear and something else that she couldn't discern just yet.

"All right, just go at your own pace. You told Don that the killer is a woman, but you were blindfolded. Did she speak to you?"

"No, she never said a word. It wasn't what I saw, it's what I heard. The footsteps were lighter than a man's would be. At one point she slapped me hard across the face and it was a smaller hand than my own. When she tore my shirt open I felt fingernails under the rubber gloves. Not like a man's, like a woman's and then there was the scent of lavender. Not perfume. It was faint, almost like she had bathed with scented soap. She started whistling and… I don't know it sounded… It didn't sound like a man to me."

"She was whistling?"

Suddenly that look in Charlie's eyes became very clear to Megan. It was pure fury. He looked up with such loathing in his expression that she had to quickly compose her own features to hide the shock that she felt.

"Yes, that bitch started whistling 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco'.

"Ok, Charlie. Can you tell me everything that you can remember from the time you and Agent O'Donnell left the computer lab?"

"His name is Jon!" Charlie didn't mean to sound so angry and regretted snapping at Megan instantly and that showed in his expressive eyes. He softened his tone and said, "His name _was_ Jon."

For the next forty five minutes Charlie detailed everything that he experienced from the moment that the trash can exploded. As he spoke his voice became mechanical and flat. He retold the horrific events that had transpired as if he were reading a dull script but tears ran freely down his face as he spoke. Megan allowed him to speak without interruption, marking places in her notes where she wanted to ask him questions once he was finished.

An hour had passed before Megan reemerged from Charlie's room. She looked a little paler than she had when she went in and Alan was on his feet immediately as she walked into the lounge.

"How is he Megan? Does he need me to go in?"

Megan placed a hand on Alan's cheek and looked into his concerned face. "Give him a few minutes, Mr. Eppes. This is far from over for him. He is going to need a lot of support to recover from this experience."

Megan turned to Don. "After Charlie is settled in at home you will want to come in to the office and go over all of the new forensics. I'll have my report on Charlie's debriefing completed by then. Right now I'm going to go and find his doctor so that he can get the hell out of here. Home is where he needs to be right now."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N- **Thank you all for the reviews. I _do_ believe that this is the most reviews I have ever gotten on a story and it really makes it worth it.  
There were a couple of questions regarding the killer and the Latin so I have tried to address these questions within this chapter.  
The reference to Our Lady of Mercy High School is from my own past. That is where I went to school and my mother did _make_ me take Latin but only for one year rather than four.  
I work in the healthcare field and trust me with the use of proper body mechanics you would be utterly amazed at how large of a person who is essentially dead weight you can move. I know I do it every day.  
Please enjoy this chapter and if you have other questions please do not hesitate to ask. If it fits with the story and I can make something clearer I will do my best to incorporate explanations into the dialogue.  
Yours sincerely  
Alice

**Chapter Sixteen**

Alan wanted to respect Megan's opinion and give his youngest a few minutes to gather himself together after reliving his experience with her, but it was proving to be quite the request. He found himself pacing back and forth in front of the couch in the lounge looking at his watch every few minutes.

"Dad, chill. You are not supposed to be the one who paces."

"I just don't like the idea of him sitting in there alone right now."

Don got up and placed his hand on his father's shoulder offering support. "Come on Dad, you know Charlie. He usually goes off on his own when something is bothering him. That's what makes him comfortable. Look, Megan only finished with him five minutes ago, lets give it another five minutes and we can go check on him together."

Don was thinking that if Charlie had lost control of his emotions he wouldn't want to have either of them see him cry. He had assumed that that was the reason Megan had said to give him a few minutes. Don very rarely cried himself and would never do so in front of his family. Even when his mother died, he kept a tight control over his emotions and only in the peace of solitude did he give into his expression of sorrow.

He was well aware that this might not be emotionally healthy, but none of the Eppes men were ones to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Charlie had actually put it quite well only two months ago when he said _'We're not really a group hug kind of family'_ Then after their father had left he proceeded to chase Don around the front yard trying to hug him.

Don smiled at the memory. That was who they were. They could share fun and laughs, but tears were a different matter. _'Maybe that should change. We are a family; we should be able to share all of our emotions with each other.' _

Don was pulled out of his thoughts by the arrival of Megan and Charlie's attending doctor. "Mr. Eppes, I am signing your son's release from the hospital, but you need to be aware that he will still be experiencing some effects from the barbiturate. He will sleep a lot today and maybe even tomorrow. This trauma has thrown him into a difficult place emotionally. I am prescribing a mild antidepressant for him. He shouldn't start taking this until tomorrow. I want to make sure that the drugs are completely gone from his system before introducing new ones."

Megan looked at Alan and said, "Don't be surprised if he gets angry easily. Depression can manifest itself as rage, and in Charlie's case it could, and has actually." Megan looked pointedly at Don and he nodded slightly indicating that she should continue as per their conversation when she first arrived at the hospital.

"Even though Charlie has been pulled off this case there will still be an agent watching the house. I'm not sure it would be wise to tell Charlie about that however. He witnessed the death of an agent assigned to watch over him and he may not take well to having someone else put in that position again. A big part of him is blaming himself for not being able to help Agent O'Donnell."

Once Alan had the release papers and the prescription for Charlie he went down to the room. When he entered Alan was surprised to see his son out of bed and fully dressed. Charlie looked at his father and the others as they came into the room. He saw the doctor come in behind Megan and Don and looked directly at him.

"I have done everything that you asked, so I'm leaving now. I don't want any more exams or discussions."

"That's fine Mr. Eppes. I have given check out instructions to your family as well as a prescription to be filled. If you experience any pain or burning in the sutures in your chest you will need to contact your primary care physician immediately. The staples that were removed were rusty. The wound was thoroughly cleaned but you are still at risk for infection. You will need to set up an appointment with you PCP in a couple of days so that he can examine the bandages on your neck. We were able to avoid traditional sutures but the stitching strips on the laceration will need to be changed. Don't get them wet; that could cause an infection to start."

On the way down to the parking garage Charlie turned to Don. "I will need to see the file on Jon. There is another algorithm that I can try. Perhaps with the new data I will be able find the link between these codes."

Charlie's voice was hard and cold. His eyes were devoid of emotion and Don felt a stab of fear for his brother. Charlie wasn't the same person anymore and Don was very worried if he ever would be again. He glanced quickly at Megan who shook her head slightly.

"Look, Charlie you are not going to be doing anything except going home and getting some rest, and some food. This is non-negotiable so don't even try and argue with me. Right now we have enough new information to go on that we may not even need to understand what those numbers mean."

Charlie turned and looked at Don. He got the impression that his brother was studying him. Charlie's gaze shot over to Megan for a moment then he turned away from both of them without comment.

The ride home was spent in silence with Charlie staring out the window of his father's car. At first Don thought that he was lost in thought but when he looked back at Charlie's face there was nothing behind his eyes. They looked dead like they had back in the hospital. Don could never remember seeing his younger brother with a blank stare. There was always something going on behind those eyes to evidence his never ceasing mind. Even in his sleep Don had never known Charlie to be still, but now his dark spheres revealed nothing. It was almost like his mind had shut down completely.

Don suggested that Charlie rest on the couch while he fixed him some lunch but Charlie just headed for the stairs as though he hadn't heard his brother talking.

"Hey, Charlie! Where are you going?"

"I'm not hungry, I want to lie down and take a nap."

Alan came out of the kitchen at these words. "That won't do young man. You haven't had anything to eat since before all of this happened. One of the conditions of your release from the hospital was that you would eat so go and have a seat on the couch my good son, while I fix _both_ of you some lunch."

Charlie didn't have the energy to argue with his father so he obediently turned and headed for the couch. He and Don sat in silence for a time while they listened to their father bustling around the kitchen. Don was becoming more nervous about his brother's despondency and was trying to figure out what to say to him when Charlie spoke up suddenly.

"You can't take me off this case Don. I know that you and Megan think that I can't handle it but you're wrong."

Don sighed deeply; he didn't want to talk about this right now. He wanted Charlie to have at least one meal and one good nights sleep before he told him, but Charlie missed nothing. Don realized that Charlie had put it together in the elevator down to the garage at the hospital.

"Charlie, it's not because it's you. I would have done the exact same thing if it had been another agent or another consultant. You are a victim of this person now and your objectivity has been compromised. I don't really have a choice, that is FBI policy and you know it. This comes from the director. You are no longer a consultant for this case, period."

Charlie felt a raw anger rising in his gut but he also felt the now familiar tingling wash of chills that he experienced as the anxiety began to exert itself over him. He took a few slow breaths and concentrated on allowing himself to just feel the panic, but that made the anger more palpable as well. He turned his face toward Don and watched with an odd sort of detachment as his brother imperceptibly flinched at the look in his eyes.

"You still need me on this case Don…  
I need to do this, for Jon…  
…for me."

Don came over and sat down right next to Charlie. "I can't let you back on this case Charlie. It isn't just because you are a victim of this killer, which is bad enough, but also because she left a warning."

Charlie's hand automatically reached up to his chest where the bandage rested under one of his father's tee shirts. "What did it say?"

"It was written in Latin, but it said, 'Go Back To Your Class Room Professor'. Charlie if you continue to work on this, the killer will come after you again."

The tiniest hint of a smile turned the corners of Charlie's mouth for a moment. To Don's utter horror the dead look had left his brother's normally expressive eyes and he could see the thoughts turning over, he could see Charlie formulating a plan. For the first time in his life Don could almost read his younger brother's mind and he felt a deeper fear than he had felt when Charlie was first kidnapped.

"Oh no, Charlie. There is no way that I am going to allow this. Just forget it."

The rage that had been churning quietly inside suddenly exploded. "Why the hell not? If Merrick can try to use you as bait for this Bitch, then why not use me. You said it yourself. If I keep working then she will come after me. What the fu…"

"Charlie!" Alan's voice was sharp and full of alarm.

Charlie turned his face toward his father and Alan involuntarily stepped back. His son's face was contorted in an unrecognizable mask of hate.

"Didn't you know, Dad? Don was going to use himself as bait for this killer! Now it turns out that she wasn't after him at all. She wanted me! What is the difference between Don being used as bait and me being used the same way?"

Alan set the plates that he had in his hands down on the table. He looked at Don with genuine fear in his eyes. "I didn't know about this plan and had I known I would have tried to stop it. But Charlie, there is a difference between you and your brother. He is a trained FBI agent. You are a mathematics professor. He uses a gun in his every day line of work, you use chalk and books. I will not listen to any more of this sort of talk. This case is closed as far as you are concerned Charlie."

Charlie stood there looking at his father breathing heavily and feeling utterly drained. The anger that had blossomed so quickly began to ebb away as a crushing fatigue took its place. He wobbled slightly and Don was at his side in an instant holding him for support.

"Charlie, you need to eat something before you collapse." Don guided him over to the table and sat him down.

The mood swings were far more extreme than they had expected and Charlie couldn't take the anti depressant until the barbiturate was completely out of his system. Alan was now very concerned about how he was going to manage his volatile son until he could take the medication that he needed to start his recovery from this experience.

"You ok, Buddy?"

Charlie just nodded his head. "I promise I won't throw a fit and break up the house. I'm too tired to fight with you about this right now, Don."

Don started to back away from him because he wanted to talk with his father in the kitchen but stopped when Charlie spoke again.

"Don, this isn't over. It won't be over until she is dead."

Charlie's voice was cold and hard the same way it had been in the hospital. Don needed to speak to his father alone but he didn't want to leave his brother. Alan was beyond being shocked by Charlie's uncharacteristic behavior. All he felt was a deep fear for his son's mental health.

"Donnie, I need your help in the kitchen."

Don reluctantly left his brother sitting at the table and followed his father into the kitchen. Alan had finished making sandwiches for everyone and he walked over to the sink and turned the water on to drown out their conversation.

"Donnie, I understand that you need to go into the office but I am not sure that I can handle him alone. I don't know what to do."

Don was torn about this issue. He was thinking the same thing but they had leads that they needed to follow up on. They had to catch this woman before she could do any more harm.

"Look Dad, lets just get through lunch and see if Charlie can get some sleep. If I have to stay, then I'll stay. The whole team is working on this so if I have to coordinate things from here then that's what I'll do. I just don't want the investigation to come into this house again."

"I couldn't agree with you more on that. Look, son I don't blame you for what happened to your brother, I really don't."

"Why do I hear a 'but' coming?"

"But I want you to stop asking for his help on these kinds of cases. He is not equipped to process the kind of horrors that you deal with every day. Look at him, Donnie. This experience has irrevocably changed him. It's a change that doesn't belong there, a change that should never have happened."

Don felt the weight of the guilt he had been feeling increase ten fold but also a small flicker of annoyance. "Dad, what has happened in this case is not the kind of thing that I see _every_ _day_. This is a nightmare from anyone's perspective including seasoned agents. Even Colby who has seen active combat is having difficulty with the sheer brutality of these crimes. But you're right. This is something that Charlie should never have been exposed to. Bringing him in on this case is a mistake and Charlie paid the price for that mistake. I will have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life…" Don's voice became tight and he almost whispered "…and so will Charlie."

The fact that Don's own words echoed what the killer said to him on the phone cut deeply. He reached over and turned off the water and picked up the cutting board with the sandwiches on them to take them out to the plates that had been left on the table after Charlie's outburst.

When they came out to the dining room table Charlie wasn't there. Don set the board down and looked around. He felt a small twinge of fear and walked quickly into the living room and found Charlie was fast asleep on the couch. He and his father ate their sandwiches and wrapped up Charlie's to put on the coffee table for him when he woke up.

Don decided to go in for a while to see how the investigation was going, but told his father to call him immediately if he needed anything. If Charlie completely lost it, there was the agent outside who was watching the house. He could come in and contain the situation until Don got there, but that would be a last resort, and only if Charlie became violent.

When Don pulled up into the garage at the FBI offices he was met with a sobering sight. Megan and Colby were standing next to a replica of the makeshift operating tables that the killer used. It was comprised of two saw horses and two planks formed into a T. Don got out of his vehicle and locked the doors. As he approached he looked quizzically at the two agents.

"What's all this about?"

"Well, Granger couldn't believe that this woman had been able to accomplish all of this alone. From the surveillance tape we determined that I am about the same size at our killer so we got a van similar to the one the killer used and a large dolly like the one we saw on the tape. I had the van parked down on the next level so that I had to push the dolly up the incline of the garage which is not unlike the ramps of the loading dock. It took me about twenty minutes to get the supplies up to this level and put this table together using a hand held electric screwdriver. As far as how she is moving her victims we saw that on the video. With the use of a wheelchair and proper body mechanics she was able to get Agent O'Donnell, who is considerably larger than her, into the building and up onto the table."

Don was impressed by this little demonstration but he still didn't understand its purpose. "OK, so why do all of this?"

Colby spoke up. "I just had a lot of trouble believing that a woman would be able to do all of this without the help of an accomplice. I mean, Don some of these guys were pretty big. This demonstration was to prove that she wasn't working with someone else. Charlie was blind folded so there could have been someone else there that we didn't see on the camera. I just wanted to be sure that a woman Megan's size could actually pull this off."

"Yeah ok, fair enough. So we know that she is working alone. She is driving a large dark colored van with a hydraulic lift in the back. The vehicle's license plates were never visible on the tape were they?"

"I'm afraid not. The only time that the plates would have been visible would be when she pulled out toward the front of the building but there was mud or something covering the plate making it unreadable. We put out an APB on the size, color and make of the van, but there are hundreds of thousands of those kinds of vans in the LA area."

"Did you check rental places? Maybe she rented this thing and that way there would be a record of it."

Megan began to unscrew the table so that they could clear the garage floor. "Yeah we thought of that. David is checking for any woman between the ages of twenty and fifty who rented a van of that size and color all throughout southern California over the last six weeks. Once we have that we can cross reference that info with the files from Quantico."

"Hey Don, how's Charlie doing?"

"It's going to be a long road for him Colby. I can't stay too long actually. He is a bit of a handful for my father right now, but I needed to at least see where we were with all of this. Listen, give Megan a hand getting this taken care of then meet me upstairs. I want to see what we have in the way of suspects from the Quantico files."

When Don walked into the bull pen the flurry of activity waned slightly as his fellow agents realized that he had arrived. "So what have we got people?"

David looked up at the familiar voice and walked over holding a thick file. "More women than you would imagine rent vans. So far we don't have a match with any of the long term rentals and the files from Quantico. We have been able to eliminate over half of the suspects from the academy files because they are either dead or actively working out of state and have air tight alibis."

"OK that's a start. We have determined that this individual is working alone. She has a solid understanding of FBI procedures and serious grudge with this agency. Where's Megan's profile?"

"It's on her desk with the evidence from the publishing firm. How's Charlie holding up?"

"I honestly don't know, David. He isn't the same person he was before this case." Don lowered his voice. "I'm worried that he will never be _Charlie_ again. I should have pulled him off the case the moment you told me about the anxiety attacks. This is all my fault, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Hey, Don Charlie is stronger than you think. He will pull through this. Right now the best thing we can do is find this woman before she can do any more harm."

Don nodded and headed over to Megan's desk. As he began to look through her files he came across the bloody note that had been stapled to his brother's chest. He picked it up and examined it closely as if it would shed some light on who wrote it. It was odd but somehow the hand writing looked vaguely familiar.

Megan and Colby had come back up from the garage and approached Don.

Colby pointed to the note sealed in the clear plastic evidence bag and said, "We didn't find any fingerprints on it. The killer was wearing gloves. The ink is standard indelible marker and the paper was torn from a pad that was in a stack of these things on the premises." Colby looked at the actual note and turned to Megan. "How do you know Latin?"

Megan smiled slightly. "Our Lady of Mercy High School; my mother made me take Latin, four years of it. The vernacular is incorrect because it is a word for word translation so I understood it."

Don looked puzzled. "What do you mean it is a word for word translation? Isn't that what it's supposed to be?"

Megan took the note and laid it on the desk. "OK 'Vado' translates to go, hasten or rush. 'Tergum' translates to back or rear but it can also mean skin or hide. "Ut' is for to, and 'vestri' should be 'vestrum' which translates to your. The plural would be vester vestra vestrum or your, vs yours. There isn't a word for classroom in classical Latin so the killer used the word 'ordo' for class and 'cella' for room. 'Ordo' refers to class as a social structure or order. 'Cella' is literally translated to room or storeroom and Magister is a direct translation for master, canon / master of a school or professor."

Colby looked duly impressed. "You learned all of that in high school?"

"Yes well, a catholic education will give you all sorts of knowledge that you never would have thought you could use in real life."

Don spent an hour listening to the tape of the interview with Charlie and reading Megan's notes. He kept a tight control over his emotions as he listened to his brother describe what he heard as Jon was murdered. He spent another half an hour reading Megan's report on this interview and had to go outside to catch some fresh air and calm the anger and sorrow he was feeling.

Once he came back upstairs he was filled with a new resolve and dived into the suspect files from Quantico with the rest of his team. As the next two hours past he had a nagging feeling that he was missing something. He kept glancing over at the note written in marker. Something about that handwriting was bothering him but he just couldn't place it. Suddenly his phone rang pulling him from his thoughts.

"Eppes."

"Donnie, are you going to be coming back soon?"

The sound of his father's voice wasn't panicked or even upset but Don shot out of his chair looking around for his jacket all the same. He was suddenly filled with that adrenalin panic feeling you get when you wake up and realize you are very late.

"What is it Dad, is Charlie all right?"

"He has locked himself in his room and he won't answer me. I went outside to get the mail and when I came back in he wasn't on the couch. I heard his bedroom door close and now he won't come out or talk to me. It's not an emergency but I'm still worried. I was hoping that you could get through to him."

"Ok Dad, just sit tight. I'm leaving now, and I should be there in about half an hour."

Don closed up his phone and grabbed his jacket which was draped across a chair near Megan's desk.

David came up to him having heard the phone call. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, Charlie's locked himself in his room and won't come out. I'm going to try and talk to him. You guys keep at it, and let me know if you come up with anything solid that we can work with."

Megan walked Don to the elevator so that she could speak to him alone. "Do you want me to come by and talk with him tonight?"

"I don't know, Megan. I'm not sure he's ready for that yet. I'll call you if I think it would help, but maybe he should have a couple of days on the anti depressant first."

"All right, but call me if you need to."

Don smiled at her and stepped into the waiting elevator car. He thought about what he heard on the taped interview with Megan as he made his way down to the garage. He couldn't fathom how his brother was ever going to get past what had been done to him. His words to his father when he first arrived at the hospital came back to him.

'_He's alive, but I didn't save him, Dad.'_ He realized that they would most likely haunt him for the rest of his life.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N- **This chapter is a little shorter than the others but it needed to stand alone. When you read it I think you will see why.  
Yours respectfully,  
Alice I

**Chapter Seventeen**

Charlie opened his bedroom window and looked up at the gutter above his head. He had done this many times as a kid, but he wasn't as sure of himself now. Would the gutter hold his adult weight? He desperately needed to get out of the house, away from his father, away from his dreams.

He had slept fitfully throughout the day and always the dream came. He could hear the screaming, the sound of the saw. The whistling tune made by a mad woman twisted and evil. Every time he woke from this nightmare he wished that she had killed him too. If he had died that night, then he wouldn't have to feel the hate that was perverting his soul.

He swung his leg out of the window and straddled the sill reaching up to grab the edge of the gutter and tugged on it experimentally. This was a craftsman house and every aspect of it was strong and sturdy. He thought that the gutter might actually hold him for the brief time he needed it to as he moved hand over hand to the long drain pipe running down the side of the house.

Charlie looked back at his room and felt a crushing sense of loss descend upon him. That room embodied a past that was slipping away. As tears began to drop from his eyes he swung his other leg out of the window and hung from the gutter. Carefully he made his way inch by inch over to the drain pipe and grabbed onto it. The stitches in his chest screamed at him as they began to tear with the strain on the muscles but he was only marginally aware of that pain. There was a far greater pain ripping his heart in two.

It only took a couple of minutes to slid down the pipe and as his feet contacted the soft earth below he looked up and marveled at the sturdy architecture that was put into the making of this home; his home. It felt foreign to him now, like he didn't belong here any more.

This is the home where he grew up and played basketball with his older brother out in the driveway. This was the home where the love of a family healed all those playground wounds whether it was a skinned knee or bully's ridicule. It's where his big brother taught him how to play baseball. This is the home where he discovered the magical world of numbers and the logical simplicity they contained. But his numbers failed him now. There was no logic to evil. There was no way to calculate the death of a soul.

He walked through the yard and up the drive to the garage without looking back. That life seemed so far away now, lost to another time before the sounds of screaming and the touch of a dying man's fingers invaded his every dream.

He pulled his car keys from his pocket as he stepped up to the car parked outside of the garage. He and his father had to park side by side in the driveway because there simply wasn't room to park a car in the garage anymore. One half of the space beyond was cluttered with boxes and his blackboards devoted to his Cognitive Emergence Theory. The other half was the space he had been using to work on the FBI Killer case next to the washing machine and dryer.

Charlie got in to his car and started the engine. He knew that his father would hear it so he wasted no time in backing out and onto the road. As he put the car in drive he noticed the dark blue car parked two doors down on the other side of the street. The driver inside that car reached for a cell phone as he started his engine as well.

Charlie ignored the tail that was obviously assigned to watch over him and drove off toward Grant Cemetery.

Alan had indeed heard Charlie's car start and rushed over to the window. He saw his son backing out of the driveway but didn't make it to the front door until he had started driving down the street. Alan also saw the agent who was assigned to the house drive off after Charlie and breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the lord that Don had insisted on a guard.

"Damn that kid!" Alan was well aware that his youngest used to sneak out of the house when he was young, but as an adult it never occurred to him that Charlie would resort to such childhood tactics to get away from the confines of the house. He rushed back inside to call Don. It took him a moment to find the phone and when he dialed Don's line it was busy. Cursing softly to himself he sat down to wait for a minute before trying again. He knew that the agent following Charlie was most likely on the phone with Don informing him of what the young man had done, but he would not be satisfied until he knew for certain that Don was made aware of Charlie's flight.

Don was stuck in traffic on the ten and was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. When his phone rang he picked it up and looked to see if it was his father calling again. When he saw the number was Jim Franklin's he felt a bolt of fear course through his body.

"Eppes!"

"Don, your brother just drove away from the house. I'm tailing him right now."

"Damn it! Where is he going?"

"He headed west down Colorado then turned right onto Los Robles."

"All right, I think he headed to Grant Cemetery. Stay on him and if he goes someplace else call me back, I'm on my way there."

"Will do, boss." Jim hung up the phone and continued to follow Charlie several car lengths behind him.

Don hung up the phone and took the next exit. He decided that going through the back streets would get him there faster and felt a twinge of annoyance when his phone rang shrilly again a moment later. He saw that it was his father calling and answered "Dad?"

"Don, Charlie took off in his car. The agent you had watching the house followed him."

"I know, Dad. I think he's going to visit mom's grave. Look stay there, Jim will let me know if he goes somewhere else. I'll bring him home."

"I know you will Don. I'm a little worried about him driving right now. Those drugs are still in his system. He could fall asleep at the wheel."

"He won't Dad. Don't worry, Jim is right behind him, and I'm on my way. I'll call you later all right?"

"Ok, Donnie. I'll see you when you get back with Charlie."

It turned out that Don was correct about where Charlie was headed. He parked his car on the side of the main drive in the cemetery and walked through the markers to his mother's grave. Jim pulled up just at the edge of the bend in the road and parked. His car was hidden by the many monuments that stood between Charlie and the road along with a stand of young birch trees but he had an unobstructed view of Charlie as he sat down in front of his mother's head stone.

Nearly thirty minutes later Don drove up the main drive at Grant Cemetery and stopped behind Agent Franklin's car. He got out and approached the driver side window.

"He's over there, Don. He's just been sitting there for the past half an hour." Jim pointed between a small stand of trees to where Charlie sat.

Don knew exactly where his brother was and didn't really need the agent to point him out. He looked at his brother and saw him sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of their mother's grave.

"Thanks, Jim. Go on back to the house. My dad's a little worried. Let him know that everything's ok and that we'll be home in a little while."

Don patted him on the shoulder before walking around the stand of trees and weaving his way between the grave markers toward his brother. As he approached, Charlie tipped his head slightly to the side and Don knew that his brother was aware of his presence. He sat down on the ground next to Charlie and looked at the grave stone marking their mother's final resting place.

"Hey, Charlie."

"I knew that it wouldn't be too long before you got here."

"Charlie, you know that you shouldn't go off alone like this." Charlie didn't respond. "You know that right, Charlie?"

"I wasn't alone. The agent you had watching the house followed me; the one in the dark blue Crown Victoria that just left. He parked over there around the bend. The car was hidden by the grave stones between here and there but he had a clear view of me through those trees."

Charlie never looked away from the grave stone as he spoke. Don had to smile at his younger brother's observation skills. They seemed to have really improved since he had started working on FBI cases with Don. The smile on Don's face faded away as he thought about all of the other things about his brother that had changed since they started working together.

"Why did you come here, Charlie?"

Charlie didn't answer for a minute. He reached out and pulled some dried leaves and twigs away from the front of his mother's stone. He sighed deeply before speaking in a quiet and sad voice.

"I have never believed that people are born evil. If that were true then evil would be a symptom, a biological anomaly. It would be something that is quantifiable, something that can be measured and predicted."

Charlie tossed the twig he was holding off to the side and folded his hands in his lap. "So what makes a person evil? What experiences change a person's basic makeup and twist it into something that it wasn't before that experience? This woman, this killer; she was an infant at one time. Was she evil then? She was a toddler, a little girl, a teenager, a young woman. When did she change from the innocent that she was at birth to the kind of person who can do the things that she is doing? What made her feel so much hatred?"

Charlie stopped speaking at that moment and drew in a deep breath. He looked up at the sky as if an answer would appear in the wispy clouds overhead.

"Charlie, I don't know if people are born evil or not. In my line of work I have seen some pretty horrible things. I mean what about kids who come from good caring families who torture animals, and pull the wings and legs off of insects? Those kids sometimes grow up to be psychopathic killers. I don't think anyone will ever know what caused them to be the way that they are. Maybe it isn't supposed to be something that anyone can understand. But there is something that I _do_ believe. I believe that no matter what a person has experienced in their lives, their basic nature won't change. They may become jaded but if they are essentially good people then they will still be good people. Come on Charlie, look at me."

Charlie looked around at Don with a frown of confusion knotting his forehead. Don could see that at some point he had shed some tears. There were faint streaks on his cheeks that were barely noticeable, yet he saw them just the same.

"I'm a cynic. I haven't always been that way, but it happens when you see the worst that life can dish out. I have a tendency to see the worst in a person before I see the best in them. So I guess you could say that I have become jaded, but I am still the same loveable guy underneath all of that." Don rocked into Charlie's shoulder to try and get a smile out of him with this comment.

Charlie just looked down at his hands folded in his lap and sighed. "Apples and Oranges."

"Charlie, come on man, talk to me."

"I want her to die. I feel that in my heart, Don. How…  
…how can I feel that and not be a kin to what she is… what she has become?"

Charlie's hands closed into fists as he seemed to be fighting to control some inner demon. "I feel so much hate for this woman that I feel like I'm losing myself. Is this the experience that begins to change me into something that I wasn't before this all happened?"

Charlie looked at Don again and his face betrayed fear and anger mixed together. "I'm not naive nor am I innocent, Don. I know that there are unimaginable horrors in this world. There really are monsters. Will _I_ be one in ten years time?"

Don reached his arms around his brother. Charlie stiffened at the touch but Don wasn't going to let go.

"You will _never_ be evil Charlie. You have a big heart and a kind soul. That is why what happened to you has hurt so deeply, but you _are_ stronger than you think. The person that you are underneath will always be there, you just have to find a way to let him come out. The fear and the anger that you are feeling right now will pass Charlie, but it'll take time. You have to have faith in who you are. You have to fight for it."

Charlie shook his head and pulled away from Don. "I can never go back. The person that I used to be is gone now. He drowned in a pool of blood."

Charlie got up in one smooth motion and started to walk toward his car. Don got up just as quickly, if not as gracefully, and followed after him. In three great strides he had caught up with Charlie and moved in front of him blocking his path. He held both of Charlie's shoulders and wasn't going to let him go until his brother met his eyes.

"_I_ will fight for you when you don't have the strength to. _I_ will have faith in you when you don't have faith in yourself. I will _not_ give up on you Charlie. I will _never_ give up on you!"

The lost look in Charlie's eyes flickered with the tiniest hint of hope. His shoulders slumped as he allowed the tension to drain off of him like rainwater. This time Charlie didn't fight against the embrace that Don pulled him into although he left his arms hanging limp at his sides. Charlie seemed to deflate like the air going out of a balloon and Don found himself supporting his brother as much as hugging him.

"I'm so tired, Don. I just want to go home."

"Ok, Buddy. Just leave your car. I'll have someone come pick it up for you." Don kept his arm around Charlie's shoulder and guided him toward his own vehicle.

* * *

**A/N-** For those of you who have read "The Enemy Within" The story has been updated and changed. My father read it and felt that the emotional giger counter on the Eppes men was set at 10 all the way through the stroy and afetr listening to his review I had to agree somewhat with him. I have revised many of the chapters and added some dialogue that was not there before.  
After speaking with my husband who is now renewing his EMT certification I have changed the scene in Braddocks Ravine with Charlie to make it more true to real life. Just thought I would give you a heads up about that. 


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N- **Hi all, Thank you all very kindly for your reviews!  
**WARNING:** This chapter has **strong** foul language in it.

Some comments that I would like to address:  
_**Sarai**__** - I hope your daughter's Glocoma test came back w/ no glocoma. I've had it, its not fun.** _We got good news on that front. She will have to be followed for years but it looks like a genetic abnormality rather than an active issue.  
_**bree1387**__** – I suspected you work in the health field- the medical scenes are very realistic.** _I do actually work in the field. I have been an x-ray tech for nearly 20 years and before graduating college I worked as a nursing aide so I am very familiar with the necessity of body mechanics.  
_**Patty - With all due respect to your father, I sincerely hope you didn't change "The Enemy Within" very much.** _The changes are not huge, but I think that they help to enhance the story a little and bring it closer to the characters created by Nick and Cheryl.  
_**Marilyn - I do not know your age, but you write with a great deal of maturity.** _Thank you very much. I am a 41 yr. old mother of three. I promise that sometime in the next week or so I will actually put a bio up on my homepage here.

I am very pleased that so many of you folks like my writing. It has reaffirmed my faith in this art form and I will probably not leave the fandom after this story is completed.  
Please enjoy,  
Respectfully yours,  
Alice I

**Chapter Eighteen**

Charlie fell asleep in the car on the way back from Grant Cemetery even though it was only a ten minute drive. Don suspected that he was still feeling the effects of the barbiturate in his system. He was having difficulty understanding why his brother would think that he was going to turn into someone who was twisted and deranged. He looked over at his brother whose head had drooped down to his chest and rocked slightly from side to side as they drove.

'_Post Traumatic Stress can do terrible things to a man's mind. God, I'm so sorry Charlie. I should never have brought you into this.'_

As Don pulled into the driveway he nodded to Jim Franklin who was parked in the same place just two doors down. Don had considered having him stationed inside the house since Charlie already knew about him, but dismissed the idea quickly. The last thing that Charlie needed at this point was to have an unknown agent watching his every move. His feelings that he was turning into some sort of monster could be bolstered by this approach.

"Wake up, Buddy; were home."

The sun was beginning to set and Don realized that it had indeed been a terribly long day. He needed to contact Megan and see how the investigation was going and he wanted her to bring Charlie's file by the house. That note kept cropping up in his thoughts. There was definitely something familiar about the hand writing and if he could just see it again he might be able to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Once Don had Charlie settled on the couch he went into the den where his father was talking on the phone.

"No, Larry they just got back. He's worn out from all this and what he needs most is rest. Maybe tomorrow would be a better day to stop by. I know, and thank you for that. Charlie will probably object when he finds out, but I really do think it's for the best. Ok, thanks again Larry. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Hey, Dad. What was that all about?"

"Larry spoke with the Dean and arranged a leave of absence for Charlie for a couple of months. The new semester will begin in two weeks and he didn't think that Charlie would be ready to return to work so soon after…" Alan sighed and set the phone back in its cradle.

"You know Charlie might not actually be as upset as you think about that."

Alan walked to the doorway of the den and peered into the living room where Charlie slept on the couch. He was very worried when Charlie took off and was glad to see him home safe again. He turned to his older son and said, "Why do you think he won't be upset?"

"I'm not saying that he won't be upset but he may actually feel a little relieved even if he doesn't say so. Dad, he's questioning himself and his feelings. He has a lot of rage toward this woman and he meant it when he said he wants to see her dead. He can't come to terms with those feelings; he has never felt that way about anyone in his life. Some time off to get his head together isn't only a good idea, it's going to be essential to his recovery. There will be a part of his logical mind that recognizes that."

Don and his father walked out of the den through the dining room and into the kitchen. Alan began to pull things out of the cupboard in preparation for making dinner while Don pulled out his cell phone and stepped out to the back deck to call Megan.

Megan's phone rang as she drove toward Pasadena. She pulled it from her waist and flipped it open.

"Reeves."

"Hey, Megan, Charlie's all right. He drove down to mom's grave. He needed some time to think. Look I need you to bring Charlie's file by the house. There is something about that note. I know I have seen that handwriting before…"

"Don, before you go on, I have to tell you that Merrick has pulled you off the case."

"What!"

Megan winced at the sharp tone in Don's voice. "Don, you had to see this coming. Charlie was kidnapped and tortured by this killer. Come on you had to know that it was only a matter of time before you got pulled. Besides you really need to be home right now to help your father with Charlie."

Don didn't respond verbally but Megan could hear the sigh of resignation.

"Look Megan, you said it yourself. You think that I know the killer, and I think that you may be right. I need that note. I will stay off active investigation, but I need to see that note again. Just because I won't be out in the field, that doesn't prevent me from looking over the evidence that I already know about."

Megan smiled to herself. She knew that this is the tactic that Don would take and had already brought the file with her. "I thought you might say something like that. I'm on my way there right now."

"You're good."

Megan smiled broadly at that. He had said the exact same words to her not three months ago when they were investigating a series of home invasions and she had produced a file that he asked her to put together instantly. Megan was the kind of agent who didn't need to be assigned a specific job in order to get it done. She knew what was needed and went ahead and did it before the task was assigned which made her look very good to her superiors. She had always been told that she showed initiative in her performance reviews and she was proud of that fact.

It only took her another ten minutes before she was pulling into the driveway of the Eppes home behind Don's SUV. Don saw her pull in and stepped out the back door and around to the driveway.

"Hey, Megan. Charlie's asleep on the couch, come in the back door."

Megan grabbed the file and followed Don around to the back porch and in through the kitchen door.

"Hello, Mr. Eppes." she greeted Alan as she walked in.

Alan turned and greeted Megan when he saw the file she was holding. "Is that work?" Alan turned a hard stare at his oldest. "I thought that we had agreed that you wouldn't bring this case home anymore. If you need to work, I can handle things here, you should go into the office."

Don held up his hands "Look Dad, I'm sorry, but I need to see something in that file. I won't let Charlie see it. Anyway I have been taken off this case."

Alan's eyebrows shot up. "Because of Charlie?"

Don didn't look too happy about it but he understood. He had just explained to Charlie earlier that afternoon why he had been taken off the case, so he couldn't really complain that the same rules applied to him as well.

Megan stepped forward and said, "Actually Don has been given a leave of absence for a while."

Don looked sharply at Megan. "You didn't mention that on the phone."

"I know, Don, but the bottom line is that you are needed here right now. You can't actively work on this case and would you really want to get involved with something new at this point?"

Don sighed and shook his head. "So whose idea was that; Merrick's or yours?"

Megan just smiled and handed the folder over to him.

"You two need to take that out of here. I'm trying to get dinner made. Megan, are you staying?"

"I'm sorry I can't, but thank you for the offer."

Don had taken the file and headed for the dinning room but Alan stepped over to Megan quickly and placed a hand on her arm to hold her back for a moment. He glanced over toward the dining room then back and her. "Thank you."

Megan patted his hand and smiled then turned and left the kitchen quietly. When she came into the dining room she looked over at Charlie sleeping in the next room. His face was pale and drawn looking even in his sleep. Don saw what she was doing and looked over as well to make sure his younger brother was still sleeping peacefully.

"How's he holding up?"

"He feels like he has lost himself to this." Don looked away from his brother and looked directly at Megan. "He's worried that he will end up becoming someone like this killer. He has so much anger about what happened to Jon… and to him. Megan he has never had to try and deal with that level of rage before. To be honest I'm a little concerned that he will never be the same again after all of this is over with either."

"He won't be the same, Don. This experience _has_ changed him, the same way every life changing experience transforms a person. Think about it, Don. Is he the same as he was before your mother died?"

"Yeah but this isn't the same as when mom died."

"Of course it isn't. He will probably never be comfortable with the smell of lavender again. He will have nightmares about this for a long time and will be less trusting of people. Don, this has deeply affected him but he can still recover from it with the love and support of his friends and family."

Don had pulled out the note that the killer had stapled to Charlie's chest. It was stained with his brother's blood and was sealed inside a clear plastic evidence bag. As he sat staring at the thing Charlie began to mumble in his sleep. Don and Megan both looked over at him and saw that he was starting to move his head from side to side and his face was creased in a frown. After a moment he settled down and his face went slack but a moment later the sound of the blender being turned on echoed through the house. Charlie's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright shouting "No. Stop!"

Don and Megan were on their feet instantly and ran over to the couch. Charlie had put his hands over his ears and began panting, "Make it stop! God, make it stop!"

Megan looked toward the kitchen and realized what the trouble was. "The blender!" She got up and ran out through the dining room to the kitchen. Alan hadn't heard her enter over the high pitched whirr of the appliance and was utterly shocked when she yanked the cord out of the outlet shutting the device down.

Alan was about to ask her what that was all about when he heard Don trying to get Charlie to calm down. He dropped the tomatoes he had been holding in his hands as he fed them into the blender and ran out to the living room. Charlie was in the middle of a panic attack and was gasping for breath. His face was as white as a sheet and he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Don was kneeling beside him holding his shoulders instructing him to breathe slowly and telling him that everything was alright.

Charlie started to get himself under control and stood up somewhat wobbly. Don got up with him still holding on for support. All of the sudden Charlie's hand came up to his mouth and he darted out of his brother's grasp and made a bee line for the downstairs bathroom. Don tried to follow him but as soon as Charlie entered the bathroom he closed the door. Don could hear him retching into the toilet and called through the closed door.

"Charlie! Hey, can I come in?"

"I'm fine, just give me a few minutes… please" came the shaky answer.

Alan stood bemused looking back and forth between Megan and Don. "What just happened here?"

"It was the blender, Mr. Eppes. Charlie is suffering from post traumatic stress and the sound of the blender caused a flashback to his abduction. The fact that he was asleep at the time only served to increase the effect."

Alan was about to question her further about this when Charlie flushed the toilet and they heard water running for a moment before the door opened. Charlie came out of the bathroom looking worn and a little shaky. Don stepped over to his brother and reached out to touch him but Charlie back away holding his hands up.

"I'm going to the garage for a while. I need to clear my head."

"Are you all right, Buddy?"

"I'm fine, Don. I just need to be alone for a little while, ok?"

Charlie walked around the far side of the group and headed straight for the garage. Alan stepped over to the dining room table and sat down looking appallingly tired. "Megan, can you please explain to me why using the blender sent Charlie into a panic attack or caused this flashback?"

Megan exchanged a look with Don and sat down as well. She pulled Charlie's file toward her and opened it up searching the contents for a typed and bound report. After looking at Don once again she turned to Alan and said, "This is supposed to be classified information but you need to know what is in here. This is the report of the interview I had with Charlie at the hospital when he recounted his abduction experience. He was very detailed in his recitation. There are certain sounds and smells that could set off the kind of reaction that we just witnessed. This report will not be easy for you to read, but I think you need to know what actually happened to Charlie in order to help him get through this. The blender sounded a lot like the saw that the killer used to cut open Jon's chest."

Alan raised his hands to his mouth. "Oh, God; I didn't know. I… oh my God, Charlie."

Megan slid the thick document over to Alan. "That's why you need to know what is in this report."

Don stood up and said, "Dad, I'll go and finish making dinner. Why don't you and Megan go into the living room? I'm sure that you may have some questions about that." Don said, pointing at the report and he gave Megan a look that seemed to say 'Help him with this'.

As she and Alan got up to go to the living room Don said, "Oh Megan when you and Dad are finished could you have Jim drive you over to the cemetery so that you can get Charlie's car back here? And since I'm officially grounded there won't be any need for him to continue surveillance."

Megan nodded her understanding and walked into the living room with Alan. By the time he had finished reading what his son had gone through he was as white as Charlie had been and had silent tears on his face. Alan sat forward in his chair and put his face in his hands.

"How can anyone be so cruel, so heartless? I understand why Charlie has so much hatred for this woman. My Lord it seems so hopeless. How can anyone come back from this kind of experience?" Alan looked up at her with an almost pleading look in his eyes. "What can I do to help him get past this, Megan?"

"I know it seems hopeless but it's not. Charlie will need counseling once this is over and make sure that he takes the anti-depressants once his system is free of the barbiturates. As far as the flash backs go; try to avoid things that could trigger them. You have to remember that Charlie experienced everything through sound and smell; that's why the blender set him off. It must have sounded like the saw. I think the most important thing that you can do for him is to simply be here."

Megan came out to the kitchen to check on Don before she left. "Don, I'm taking this file with me but I'll leave the note. Forensics has everything they need from it and there isn't anything else that we can learn from it until you figure out where you have seen that handwriting before. If you need anything, or think of anything call me. Merrick has me taking your place as lead on this case."

"Ok, Megan and thanks." Don didn't turn to look at her. He wasn't sure why he felt a pang of irritation or was it jealousy that she had taken his place as the agent in charge. He knew that these feelings were out of place and decided to chalk it up to being over tired both physically and emotionally.

Don had finished making dinner and threw the casserole in the oven to cook for twenty minutes. His father had set the table so he had only one task left. He had to go to the garage and try to get Charlie to come out of his world of numbers and equations to eat.

Normally this would have not been a problem but right now Don was concerned that he would be taking his brother away from the one thing that comforted him and he needed to be comforted right now. Don shook his head and thought,

'_He needs to eat right now or he'll end up back in the hospital.'_

Don took a deep breath and walked over to the door to the garage.

* * *

The blonde woman sat quietly on the bench at Grant Park. She had been sitting there for the last two hours contemplating her next move when her cell phone rang. 

"Hello?"

"Shell, what the hell are you doing?"

"So nice to hear from you, dear cousin. I'm just fine; how are you?"

"Don't screw with me girl! You fucked up and left some evidence behind!"

A spear of alarm shot through Shelly Arbary as she sat there. "What are you talking about? I left nothing for them, no fingerprints, no DNA, no video evidence!"

"Oh really? Then why when I came into work this morning did I find every file from 1990 thru 1997 pulled out for me to re-file? It turns out the CO came in Sunday afternoon with a group of trainees and pulled all the files, had them copied and then shipped overnight to LA!"

Shelly laughed. "Oh is that all? You actually had me worried for a second. They're grasping at straws Beck. The only connection between the victims is Quantico. They are getting desperate. Don't fret about it."

"All of the files that they pulled were women. Instructors, Employees, Trainees even any Consultants that came in during that time frame."

This got Shelly's attention. _'The professor; somehow he knew I was a woman.'_

"Shell, you need to stop this thing now! They will trace you to me. I'm not doing time for your vendetta!"

"Doing time? Cuz, you'll get the needle, just like me if we get caught."

"WE! Fuck you Bitch! There is no way I'm taking the rap for your sick shit! What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Shelly hated it when Becky used such language. "Look Beck, first of all, I have told you repeatedly not to speak that way. It makes you sound like trailer trash…"

"Don't lecture me about language you sick bitch. I'm not the one cutting the hearts out of FBI agents!"

"…and secondly, I'll send the file back to you. Simply file it and then no one will ever know it went missing. The fact that they don't have it here in LA can be blamed on the sloppy work of a trainee."

"I don't like this, Shell. Why do you have to keep doing this? Haven't you had enough?"

Becky had a pleading tone to her voice now that further irritated Shelly. "No I haven't had enough! I will have had enough when the last man on that list dies knowing what he did and that he is paying the price for his actions. I only have one name left, Beck and he will be the most difficult to get but he'll suffer the longest. His treachery was two fold and I will not let him walk away."

"If you get caught and you implicate me you had better hope they put that needle into you before I get my hands on you!"

Shelly smiled at that. Becky was finally starting to show a little moxie. "Just relax cuz. I'll overnight the file to you, and don't worry; I have no intention of getting caught." She hung up the phone and looked up at sky as the first faint stars came out. _'alive'_

She got up and headed back toward the light blue Chevy that she had been driving for the last two days. She took her time putting a dark black wig of curly hair on and a pair of oversized glasses with clear lenses in them. Once she was satisfied with her looks she pulled away from the curb and headed toward the Eppes home to see if the agent was still on duty in the dark blue crown Victoria or if he had switched shifts with another agent.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N – **This chapter took a little longer because I had to put a couple of different elements in it and make them fit.

Some one asked about Becky and if she had been mentioned earlier in the story. No she had not. I was trying to give the reader a small bit of information about this woman and what may have set her off on this killing spree. Becky is obviously her cousin and works as a clerk at Quantico. That is what the argument between them was about. Becky supplied Shelly with her file and is now worried that Shelly's actions will tie back to her because theft of classified documents from a government facility will land her in jail. Shelly is implying that her cousin will share in the culpability for the murders if she is caught.

I am at a point now where I am not clear yet on how the next chapter should go so give me a little time on that. Feel free to guess. That might actually help me to put the pieces together in a workable fashion. Oh and by the way has anyone figured out the numbers yet? I am toying with the idea of having Don figure them out before Charlie. All the clues are there so let's make it a little mystery for you to try and guess at.

**Chapter Nineteen**

Larry came to see Charlie late Tuesday morning and was not surprised to find him in the garage. He was somewhat taken aback when he that the young professor was working on the number sequences left by the killer. "Charles, what are you doing?" he asked in an almost cautious tone.

Charlie practically jumped out of his skin and dropped the chalk he was holding. "God, Larry, don't sneak up on me like that!"

Larry's eyebrows shot up. "I wasn't aware that I was 'sneaking' at all, but that is fairly beside the point. I thought that you had been taken off of this case, hence my question."

Charlie sat down on the edge of the desk next to the rollaway blackboard that he had been working on and sighed deeply. "I have been, but…" and he looked over at the failed equations written there mocking him. "The answer is there Larry. Why would the killer leave a message that couldn't be read?"

"Why not?" Charlie just stared at him uncomprehending. "This person is a psychopath and probably deranged. Why must there be a message in those numbers? Has it occurred to you that the numbers themselves could mean nothing? Could they not be just one more aspect of a sick game to confuse the authorities? Look, Charles, I am not going to go down this road with you again. I have come here to see how you are fairing after your harrowing experience and to give you this."

Larry handed a sealed envelope with the Cal Sci insignia on it to Charlie who took it frowning. "What's this?"

Larry simply pointed to the envelope signaling Charlie to open it. Inside was a letter from the Dean of the college offering his condolences and support and a signed form for an open ended Leave of Absence that began as of yesterday's date. Charlie read the letter from the Dean twice to make sure he understood what he was seeing. Then he let his hands drop to his lap and looked at Larry with unfathomable hurt in his eyes.

When he spoke it was with a very quiet voice. "Why did you do this, Larry?" Charlie looked at the form again. "How could you do this to me? You are supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend, Charles. You are not nearly fit to resume teaching and you know that, as well as I do."

"So you go running off to the Dean behind my back and get me tossed?"

Larry sighed and shook his head. "Charles, I didn't _'go running to the Dean'_ as you so petulantly put it. He approached me at the faculty meeting yesterday morning to ask about you. Charles, there was an explosion on campus; a federal agent as well as a teacher were abducted from the east quad parking lot. He _is_ the Dean of the school; of course he knew about it. For heavens sake Charles, it was on the news. I assured him that you had been found alive but that you were in the hospital and had not yet awoken from what ever drug was used to subdue you."

Charlie dropped his head in resignation. Of course the Dean would have found out.

"I'm sorry, Larry, it's just that…  
…it seems like everything is being taken from me."

Charlie slid off the desk and began pacing. "My father is treating me like I'm some kind of broken child. He went out yesterday and picked up a prescription from the pharmacy and basically told me in no uncertain terms that I will be taking my medication when I am supposed to whether I like it or not. He and Don are watching my every move; Don even put an agent outside across the street to watch the house. Yesterday I needed some time to think; to be alone and I had to sneak out like I was a teenager again. Don had Megan bring my car back to the house but he hasn't returned my keys to me."

Charlie let out a bitter laugh. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't sleep because when I do nightmares invade dreams. I have been taken off the case, and now my job has been taken away too."

Charlie stopped pacing and sat up on the desk again. His voice took on a muted and depressed sound. "It just seems like slowly but surly everything is being stripped from me; my independence, my consulting work, my livelihood…  
…my sanity and I'm powerless to stop it."

Charlie waved vaguely at the black board. "My numbers are the only thing I have left. If I loose them too, I'll be lost, Larry, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find my way back."

* * *

Larry's mind echoed this conversation later in the afternoon as he left Charlie's office and locked the door. Larry told the Dean that he would personally retrieve all of Charlie's lesson plans so that a stranger was not obligated to invade his personal space. He would have like to have taken over Charlie's classes for him, but he had his own schedule to contend with. 

The depression that Charlie had begun to demonstrate disturbed Larry immensely, and he was determined to do everything in his power to make sure that when he _did_ return to work he would find his spaces just as he had left them.

As the physicist walked down the corridor of the math building lost in his own musings he didn't notice the large dolly being pushed down the hallway toward the service elevator by a tall blonde woman and nearly tripped over the leg of a saw horse hanging off the edge.

"Oh! Pardon me." Larry cried in surprise as he stopped short.

"Excuse me, Professor. I'm sorry; this darned thing steers like a bloated cow."

The woman came around the side of the dolly and pushed the saw horse back onto it more securely. Larry glanced at the nametag attached to her collar. A picture of an attractive blonde with clear blue eyes stared back at him. The name on the badge read Rebecca Cantor – Maintenance.

"Do you need some help with that Ms. Cantor?"

The woman smiled at him but that smile didn't reach her eyes which seemed oddly cold. "That's all right, Professor. I can handle it and I'm sure that you are very busy."

She walked back to the dolly handle and began to push the heavy cart laden with a couple of large wooden planks, some tools and two saw horses down the hall again. Something about that smile and those eyes made Larry feel a little uneasy. They almost seemed to be predatory.

"Well, you have a lovely day, sir."

Larry shook his head slightly. "I'll certainly give it my best effort." Larry stepped off to the side a little further as she moved passed him but he stood there for a moment staring after her. Then he mentally shook himself. _'Get a grip Fleinhardt. Haven't you ever seen a female maintenance worker?'_

As he resumed his trek to his own office a small voice in the back of his mind told him that no, he had never seen that woman on campus before but other thoughts took precedence and he soon disregarded any discomfort that he felt as a byproduct of his concern for Charlie.

* * *

The next couple of days proved to extremely trying for all three of the Eppes men. As the Pentobarbital bleed out of Charlie's bloodstream his sleep disturbances increased exponentially. Just as he had told Larry, he would wake up often during the night bathed in sweat and gasping for breath as panic filled his mind. 

Don had taken to leaving his bedroom door open as well as Charlie's so he could help him during these episodes while allowing their father to sleep. Don reasoned that at least one member of the household needed to be getting some sleep.

The dark circles under Charlie's eyes grew more pronounced and his meager appetite waned. He had great difficulty keeping anything substantial down and had subsisted on soup, water and tea since the weekend. Charlie's lack of adequate rest and nourishment began to affect his ability to function as it set his already unstable emotions on a precarious rollercoaster.

When he wasn't camped out in the garage working on his equations he was short tempered one moment and quietly morose the next. Alan suspected that when he was alone, Charlie gave into the tears that he refused to allow his family to see.

By Wednesday both Don and Alan were exceedingly concerned about Charlie's mood swings. Even though Charlie obediently took the anti depressants prescribed for him there didn't seem to be any improvement in his mood. If anything, he seemed more withdrawn than when he first arrived home after his ordeal.

Don decided that it was time for Charlie to talk about this and went to the garage only to find him working on the number clues left by the FBI Killer. This proceeded to cause a huge argument between the brothers that drew their father into the garage.

When Alan saw what was on the blackboard he lost his own temper and stomped over to the washing machine drawing out a wet towel then proceeded to wipe the blackboard down obliterating all of Charlie's equations.

"Both of you boys have been suspended from this case! This mess has caused enough strife for this family and I want nothing more to do with it!"

Don was almost as shocked as his younger brother at their father's actions and looked at Charlie expecting a monstrous outburst from his younger sibling, but his heart broke when he saw the look of disbelief and hurt in the younger man's features.

Charlie stared dumbfounded at his father. No one had ever done that to his precious black boards before and the sheer shock of watching his father angrily wipe away his numbers left him speechless. The conversation that Charlie had with Larry two days earlier echoed hollowly in his mind.

"_My numbers are the only thing I have left. If I loose them too, I'll be lost, Larry, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find my way back."_

Alan looked at Charlie feeling furious that he was still working on this, but that anger drained away instantly at the deeply wounded look in his son's eyes.

Charlie, who still held the chalk that he had been using in his hand, dropped it on the floor before turning around and walking out of the garage without a word or a backward glance at his father. He went up to his room in an almost dazed state with Alan and Don following behind.

"Charlie, look son, I'm sorry you must understand…" Alan spoke to Charlie's back as he walked up the stairs. "Charlie!"

Alan followed him up trying to get him to stop and talk to him but Charlie acted as though he couldn't hear him. He went into his room, closed the door locking it and refused to respond to either of them throughout the rest of the day, even though they both tried to get him to come out numerous times.

Don was worried that Charlie might try to slip out again and decided to spend the rest of his day out on the back deck to keep an eye on Charlie's escape route. He used that time to surreptitiously study the note from Charlie's file making sure that his father didn't see what he was doing.

Alan sat at the kitchen table for a long time torn by his feelings about what had happened. He was beyond worried about Charlie. He felt justified in his actions but the look of betrayal in his son's eyes when he wiped his board clean would surly haunt him for a long time to come.

Don finally managed to get Charlie to come out to eat dinner but he refused to speak to his father all through the meal. He only picked at his food but did finally manage to eat something with Don's encouragement. Alan couldn't stand the way Charlie wouldn't even acknowledge his presence so he took his plate and left for the kitchen.

"Charlie, why are you doing this to him?" Don's voice gave away his anger even though he tried to keep it calm. "You can't just shut Dad out because he erased that board! You're not even supposed to be working on those damn numbers anymore."

Charlie got up suddenly from the table and walked over to Don's briefcase. He opened it up and pulled out the note in the evidence bag and walked back to the table. He threw it down in front of Don then turned on his heel and walked over to the stairs.

"This is different Charlie!"

Charlie stopped on the third step and looked back at Don with angry tears threatening to fall. "At least Dad was upfront and honest about what he did. He didn't try to hide it!"

Alan heard what was being said and stepped into the threshold to the dining room. "Charlie, I wasn't trying to hurt you. When I saw what you were working on I just snapped. This case has torn our family apart. It has hurt you more than anything ever has and I just want you to be able to put this behind you and come back home."

Charlie couldn't help but again remember his words the other day that sounded so much like what his father had just said to him.

'_My numbers are the only thing I have left. If I loose them too, I'll be lost, Larry, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find my way back.'_

Charlie sat down on the steps as the tears finally won the battle and spilled down his face. Alan moved quickly over to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Charlie lost all semblance of control at that point and openly wept in his father's arms.

Don looked on feeling helpless and a little ashamed. Charlie had made a valid point; Don _had_ tried to hide what he was doing, but he knew that if he could figure out where he had seen that handwriting before they would have a name and they could stop this woman from killing any other agents. He took the note and returned it to his briefcase and walked out of the house for some fresh air.

* * *

Thursday morning dawned clear and bright. It had been four days since Jon and Charlie had been found and Jon's funeral was at ten o'clock in the morning. Charlie was up early and showered. He got dressed in his black suit and was grateful for the dress shirt and tie that almost covered the bandages still around his neck. The bruise on his cheek had faded quite a bit and when he had finished dressing, except for the dark circles under his eyes he didn't look too bad. 

He had mixed feelings about this funeral and they bubbled deep down in his belly preventing him from even thinking about breakfast and settled for a cup of tea. Larry showed up at nine in the morning as he had decided to attend as well wanting to be there for emotional support.

Charlie sat through the funeral mass at St Patrick's Cathedral with an odd sort of detachment. The ceremony involved with an Irish Catholic Mass was a new experience for him but he found no reprieve in observing its intricacies. The Cathedral was quite crowded. Jon came from a fairly large family and the entire Bureau seemed to have come as well.

Charlie had no idea what was expected of him when the rest of the congregation rose up to receive communion and simply sat there as he watched nearly a hundred people form a slow moving line up to the alter. It reminded him of sheep being herded into a pen. In the back of his mind it seemed to Charlie that most of these people were acting as though hypnotized or conditioned from childhood to move in a certain way. All through the mass there were set times when the congregation stood or knelt while reciting certain prayers. Everyone seemed to know exactly when to kneel, sit or stand and he just followed along only half aware of what was being said. If his mind hadn't been so overwhelmed with his own churning emotions he would have found the experience a rather fascinating look into a culture almost as old as his own.

After the Mass the drive to the cemetery seemed like a surreal dream. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were chirping and the weather was comfortably warm. All of these conditions felt odd and out of place with the cold emptiness that had settled in the center of his being. _'It should be raining.'_

The second eulogy at the grave site seemed to impact Charlie more than the long twenty minute homily at the church. The priest stood before the coffin and said a prayer that burned itself into the young man's memory.

"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our brother Jon; and commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace."

The priest was finally setting the memory and soul of this man to rest and Charlie suddenly felt that it was over too soon. Jon had tried to protect him, he was a good man who was about to be lowered into the ground never to return. Would he be remembered years from now? _'I will remember him.'_

Unbidden, tears welled up in Charlie's eyes and dropped down his face. The coffin slowly lowered into the earth as a myriad of emotions ripped at his heart. One thought seemed to emerge above all the others. _'You will have justice, if it is the last thing I ever do, you will have justice.'_

Once the ceremony was complete and everyone had begun to disperse Charlie stood rooted to the spot staring at the deep hole before him. His tears had dried up and he found himself wondering why he was so moved by the death of a man he hardly knew. A young woman stepped up to him and waited until he turned and looked at her.

"My brother was assigned to protect you. I can't even begin to imagine what you must be feeling right now." She reached out and touched his face with a gentle hand. "He didn't face the end of his life alone. You were there to ease his passing. As horrible as that was for you, I am glad that Jon had that small comfort." The woman kissed Charlie lightly on the cheek before turning to leave.

Alan, Don and Larry had stood off a ways to give Jon's sister a modicum of privacy when she approached Charlie but as soon as she left Larry by came over and put a hand on his shoulder. Charlie looked at his family not knowing what to say or how to act. He walked off toward a small garden with benches that sat near the back of the glade where Jon grave was.

"Go with him, Donnie. I'll bring the car around."

Don and Larry followed Charlie and took seats on either side of him.

"I don't know how to feel. I know that it was right for me to come today. I _know_ that…  
…but a part of me feels like I don't belong here, like I'm an interloper invading the sanctity of this family's grief. I'm not a member of his family or a close friend. He was supposed to protect me…  
I was an assignment to him, nothing more."

Don put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "No Charlie that's just not true. I knew Jon and he would never feel that way. You may have never personally met him before but he knew who you were and respected the work you have done for the Bureau. You weren't just an assignment."

"I only knew him for a day, less than twenty four hours, but when I think about the conversations that we had it feels like I'm remembering a friend."

"It only takes a moment to become a friend. Just because you only knew him for a short period of time, that doesn't negate your feelings of loss."

Charlie looked up at his brother's face. He wanted to believe him, but his emotions were so confused at the moment that he felt like he was falling down a steep hill with nothing to grab onto for support.

Larry folded his hands together and tapped his lips with his index fingers for a moment.

"The fabric of the cosmos that binds all things together affects each of us in imperceptible ways, Charles. As human beings we all have defining moments in our lives. Birth, marriage, children and yes even death are the events that create these moments. Our own deaths are the final defining moment that we all will face and you shared that moment with Agent O'Donnell. When that happened your souls were inexplicably bound. That is a bond that will endure for the rest of your life. The important thing to remember now is that what you are feeling doesn't need to be explained or quantified. Just feel, Charles. What ever those feelings are, just allow yourself to feel them."

Charlie sighed deeply and looked up at the azure sky. After a moment a small smile appeared on his lips and Don saw this.

"What?"

Charlie looked over at him with an almost playful glint in his eye. Don was so relieved to see a little moment of the Charlie that he knew peek out from under the depression that he almost missed what Charlie said.

"Jon told me that, my big brother and the high school king of detention, was a study hound at the academy. My jaw nearly hit the floor."

Don smiled at that. "He said I was a study hound?"

"Well, no he did say that you were serious and dedicated. That when you weren't out training on the obstacle course you spent a lot of your free time in the library."

"Yeah, well the library wasn't such a bad place to be." Don said a little defensively. "I mean if you think about it; it was a great place. That's where I met…" Don's speech slowed sown as his mind raced. "…Terry."

Charlie sat forward. "What is it?"

Don got up and saw that their father was just pulling the car up to the road behind the glade. "Um… Charlie, I have to go check something out. I'll meet you back at the house ok?"

"Yeah, all right, but Don what…"

Don looked down at his brother's face. He did seem to be better than he had been since the abduction. "Look, I'll explain everything later, but right now I have to go check on something. Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine, Don." Charlie got up as well and he and Larry turned toward the car. "I'll see you later right?"

"You got it buddy." And Don left in the other direction for his own vehicle.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N - **There was a passage in the last chapter that drew some notice. It had not occured to me to put any kind of disclaimer or warning on the chapter so I will do that now.  
There is a description of an impression that Charlie had concerning the ritual of the Catholic Mass that some folks found to be offensive. This description is something that I drew from my own past and was not an attempt to discredit anyone's faith. As a matter of fact I _am _Irish Catholic.Actually I am so darned Irish that my full maiden name is Alice Irene O'Donnell. I was raised in the Catholic culture and have attended mass since early childhood.  
When I was younger I would look at the faces of the people going up for communion and I saw either boredom or just blank stares as if there was no one home. I was actually going to liken those people to zombies but I thought that it might be offensive so I switched it to sheep. I have always had an issue with the systematic, ritualized, formulaic ways of my own faith. Because of this observation for a number of years I would only take communion at certain times of the year to give it more meaning.  
My intention was not to offend anyone, and I am not commenting on some culture that I amonly peripherally aware of. As I said I was raised in this culture and these are the impressions that it left on me. Many of the elements in my stories are drawn from my own personal experiences.  
So all of that said if anyone was offended by what I wrote, I am sincerely sorry that you feel that way. My intention was not to offend, only to put into writing the perceptions that I have garnered over the years through varied experience, and of course to try and give you all an engaging tale.

**Chapter Twenty**

As Don started up his SUV he was thinking hard. There was that crazy librarian at Quantico. He remembered her clearly now. Daryl had been a close friend when they were at the academy together and he had gone out on a rather disastrous date with this woman. Don remembered when Daryl told him about it. He said that she was whacked and a little bit scary.

'_What was her name? It was Shelly. Shelly Are… something. Are… buckle, no, Are… berry… betty… bury! That's it'_

"Shelly Arbury." Don said aloud. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Megan's number.

"Hey Megan, listen when you get back to the office pull the folder on a Shelly Arbury from the Quantico files." Don maneuvered his vehicle onto the highway skirting some construction cones placed on the side of the on-ramp.

"She was the librarian when I was at the academy. I remembered her because she was kind of off. She dated several of the trainees including Daryl Bliss. Daryl told me that she sort of spooked him and he refused to go out with her again."

"Ok, Don, but what makes you think that she could be our killer?"

"You remember I told you that the handwriting on that note looked familiar? One day she left a message written in one of my notebooks when I had left the table to get some reference materials. I think that if we compare the two we might find a match."

"Do you still have that notebook, Don?"

"Yes, I kept all of my things from Quantico. I'm on my way to my apartment. They should all be down in a box in my storage unit. Megan, this woman was fired after an investigation for inappropriate conduct. If she dated Daryl, maybe she dated the others as well."

"OK, so you're thinking that she is feeling jilted and wants revenge against the men who hurt her. That would fit with the removal of the victim's hearts but why now, why so long after the fact?"

"I don't know, but I have a feeling about this, Megan. We need to know where Shelly Arbury went after she left Quantico, and what she's up to now. Call me when you have the file, alright?"

"Don, I'll call you and let you know what we find out but remember that you are not on this case anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but if the handwriting samples match then you guys can take it from there. I'm not really working the case, I'm just supplying evidence. Consider me a witness. "

"If Merrick finds out he'll have a cow. I'll send David to you to pick up the samples, alright. You are on a temporary leave and I don't want you showing up at the office."

"Fair enough, give me some time to find my old notebooks then I'll go back to Charlie's place. That's where the note is anyway. Have David go there to pick the samples up."

As Don hung up the phone and took the exit off the highway to his neighborhood he didn't notice the freshly painted white step van that switched lanes and took the same off ramp.

Megan arrived back at the office shortly after speaking with Don. David and Colby had also arrived after the morning funeral. She told them to pull the file that Don indicated and was more than a little surprised that they couldn't find it.

"How can it not be here? Didn't they check against the computer files to make sure that they didn't miss anything?"

Colby, who had made the initial call to Quantico, stepped forward. "Virginia was hit with several powerful electrical storms last weekend and their server got hit. These files were all pulled by hand."

Megan swore softly under her breath. "Well, get back on the line with them now. I'm sure that they have their server problems sorted out by now. We need that file A.S.A.P."

"I'm on it."

Colby turned and walked to the far side of the bull pen where his desk was while Megan pulled out her phone and called Don.

Don had parked in the lot next to his apartment building and headed straight for the basement where the storage units were located. After a moment or two the white step van pulled up outside the building along the street only fifty feet from where Don's vehicle was parked.

As Don rummaged through the boxes in his storage unit his cell phone rang loudly.

"Eppes."

"Don, its Megan; the file on Shelly Arbury isn't here. Colby said that the files were pulled by hand last weekend because an electrical storm took out their server, but the file should still be here. I have him contacting Quantico to get it faxed over."

Don sat down thinking about that. "Of all of the files that could have been missed, I don't buy that it just happened to be the one we need. This is no accident, Megan."

"I agree. I have David tracking her movements from the time she left Quantico. Did you find the notebook yet?"

Don got up again and pulled down a box that was on top of a tall stack of other boxes. "I'm still looking for it. Hang on…"

Don set the phone down for a moment so that he could use two hands to grab a hold of the box he was after. Being that it was full of books and notes it was quite heavy. He set it down on the floor and began to rummage through it. It didn't take him long to find the note book he was looking for. Don always kept his things very organized whether it was the CD's in his stereo rack or the items in his storage area.

He picked up the phone again and sat back down on the short bench on the back wall. "I've got it, hang on let me see if I can find the page."

Don cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he flipped through the notebook. Finally he came to the page in question. Scrawled across the margin of his note book in black marker the note read…

_You're the star in the classroom and out on the course, but  
__I'm betting that your skills range into other areas as well.  
__Give me a call; let's see what kind of grade you can earn outside of the lecture hall.  
__Shelly,  
__457-8789_

"That's pretty forward. Did you call her?"

Don put the top back on the box and lifted it back up to the top of the stack. "No, actually I said something to her right then."

Don took the notebook and stepped out of the storage unit and locked it back up.

"Really, what did you say to her?"

"I told her that I wasn't interested and that I was seeing someone else. She kept trying to get me to call her and it became a bit of a pain so I stopped studying the library. When she was investigated the CO asked me about her since he knew that I spent a lot of time in the library. I told him that she had asked me out, I showed him the note in my book andthat I declined the invitation."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much; I know that several other trainees were being interviewed as well as a couple of graduates. I never really thought about it after that. Look I'm going to get some things together to take over to Charlie's. Why don't you send David along after he finishes up with the background check on Shelly?"

"Ok, Don, but be careful. This woman is a psychopath and she showed an interest in you back at the academy. Just because you didn't actually go out with her, that doesn't preclude you as a possible target."

Don went up to his apartment and decided to pack enough for a long stay at Charlie's house. He was determined to see Charlie through this episode and planned on staying at the family home until his brother showed some real signs of improvement. His small smile and attempt at teasing Don about being the _'King of Detention'_ earlier was a step in the right direction, but Don didn't kid himself. This was far from over for Charlie. He knew that his brother would suffer the repercussions of this experience for a very long time to come.

After he had packed a large duffel bag he went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He knew that he wouldn't be back for a while and didn't really want to come home to rotting food that would make the place stink. There wasn't a whole lot in there but he decided to throw out everything that was canned or jarred. He moved the small bowl of apples and oranges from the counter onto the bottom shelf, figuring that they would stay fresh for a long time in the cold and then turned to tie up the garbage bag to take out to the dumpster.

He checked his messages and found that he didn't have any then after one more, quick look around he picked up his duffel and threw it over his shoulder then the garbage and left the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Instead of leaving the building by the front door he headed down the hallway to the stairs that led out to the back of the building where the dumpster sat. After depositing his garbage in the receptacle he headed for his SUV parked out near the street side of the parking lot.

As he approached his vehicle he heard the sound of a baby crying which took a moment to register on his thoughts. He threw his duffel into the back of the SUV along with the notebook that he had taken from his storage unit and closed the door. The cries from the baby hadn't stopped and he looked toward the sound.

Out on the street there sat a large bright white step van and it sounded like the cries were coming from inside of it. He looked around then back toward his apartment building to see if there was a parent around who was just getting something quickly, but there was no one in sight. It was one thirty in the afternoon and most people would be at work right now and Don didn't think that there was anyone in his building with an infant.

The cries continued and they sounded like the baby was very distressed. He locked the door to his vehicle and made his way around the end of the chain link fence that separated the parking lot from the street. As he stepped around the corner his hand instinctively went to his holster and he unsnapped his gun but didn't draw the weapon yet.

He walked slowly and carefully up to the cab of the van and looked inside, but there was no one there and no keys in the ignition. Something about this felt wrong and he pulled out his gun keeping it in front of him as he crept down the length of the van to the back which stood open.

He glanced around the street again for any sign of someone but there wasn't anyone there. He carefully rounded the corner and looked into the dark interior of the van checking the corners for an ambush, but again saw no one.

There were quite a few things crammed into the back of this vehicle. It looked like some sort of discount medical supply storage in there. He could see a couple of beat up looking wheelchairs folded and tied up against the far wall with long cam straps. There was what looked to be some kind of lift device sitting on a large handled dolly. It had a name running down the side of the long hydraulic shaft. _Sarah_.

There were some small boxes scattered around that bore medical symbols on them that could have contained any number of items. He saw several waist belts that weightlifters used to support their backs hanging from pegs along the wall to the right which was covered with several thick hanging pads. They reminded Don of the kind of wall pads that you might find in a psych ward. They were thick quilted drapes that would protect either the wall, or any object that ran into them.

The cries were coming from a very large crate shoved all the way to the back of the van just behind the passenger side of the cab. Don's eyes had a moment to adjust to the dim interior of the van and he carefully climbed up into the back still holding his pistol out in front of him. He made his way carefully back toward the crate and looked in. The thing seemed to be nearly filled with garbage. There were empty cardboard boxes and crumpled up papers and the sound of the baby no longer crying but practically screaming emanated from underneath all of that.

Don looked back out into the street behind him and still there was no one in sight so he held his gun with one hand and started pulling the trash out of the crate with his other. Once he had taken several empty boxes out and crumpled up papers he saw a black plastic trash bag in the bottom of the crate that was moving sporadically.

'_Oh my God!' _

Don holstered his gun and reached in grabbing the bag with both hands and tore it open. As he did this a woman slipped out from behind the hanging wall pads and leveled a dart gun at her quarry. What Don saw in that plastic bag sent a chill down his spine. It was an electronic doll whose arms and legs were moving back and forth with a tape recorder strapped to its chest. The baby's cries were coming from the recorder.

Don stood up quickly and spun around reaching for his gun but as his eyes fell upon the face of Shelly Arbury she had already pulled the trigger. A sharp pain hit Don in the neck and he reached his hand up as the darkness began to envelope him. The last thing he saw was Shelly stepping forward and pushing him backward into the crate with an evil smile spread across her face.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N- **Sorry this took so long. I have had to re-write this chapter so many times I lost count. I tried lots of different things to get the sequencing of where the different characters needed to be physically and what time of day it was correct. There is actually quite a bit more to this sequence but the chapter was getting kind of long and I figured if I posted this then I could buy myself another couple of days to get the rest put together.  
Did anyone figure out the numbers yet? They are reveled in this chapter.

Thanks for reading,  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Shelly secured the lid on the crate then climbed down out of the back of the van and closed up the back doors. She walked to the cab of the truck and got in when her cell phone rang shrilly. She looked at the number and sighed.

"Yes Becky, what is the problem now?"

"What is the problem?" Becky hissed into the phone trying to keep her voice down. "I'll tell you what the problem is. They have you. They know that it's you killing these agents! I told you to stop, but you wouldn't listen. I told you this was a mistake. The LA office called asking for your file. Not just some file Shell, but yours. What the hell am I supposed to do? God damn it Shell, I wish I had never giving that file to you."

Shelly paled slightly but shook her head with a determined look on her face.

"Stall."

"What? What do you mean stall? I am not going to be implicated in this Shell. This is your gig. All I did was give you a file, that's it. I want no part of these killings!"

"Becky, you are already a part of this. If you want to save your own skin then you will do exactly as I say, do you understand me?"

Shelly waited for a moment. She could tell that her cousin was thinking things over.

"What do you want me to do, and it had better not be illegal. I won't ever do that for you again. Giving you that file was the only thing they can pin on me and I am keeping it that way."

"How long ago did you get this call?"

"About five minutes ago, maybe ten."

"All right, don't do anything. Just keep working. Wait until they call back asking where the thing is. Tell them that you are terribly sorry. That the CO was out of the building and you had to have him sign off on the transfer of information before you could fax it over. Tell them that the CO is back and that you will take care of it right away. Then leave. Go home pack a bag and head south."

"Are you kidding me? I don't want to be on the run! I have a job and a life here. Granted it's not a great job or a great life but it's mine. Shelly, you can't ask this of me."

"I can't? You know damn well that I can. I have kept your secret all of these years. I never told anyone about that fire and how you killed my parents. I have protected you ever since we were kids. You owe me, you owe me everything!"

There was another silence on the line. Over the years Shelly had convinced her rather gullible cousin that it was totally her fault that a fire burned her family home to the ground killing her parents. She had held that as emotional blackmail over her cousin ever since they were children, counting on the fact that Becky would never really piece together that it was Shelly who cleverly coaxed her younger cousin to set the fire. Shelly had suffocated her parents beforehand so that they would burn in the blaze.

Shelly knew that she had won when she heard her cousin sigh in resignation. "Good, now just relax. When you leave, head for Costa Rica; I'll meet you at the hotel that your parents took us on vacation."

She drove to the Cal Sci campus and pulled around to the back of the math building. There was a service and maintenance entrance that she utilized when she brought in the supplies for the table. She made sure that her hair was pulled up in a tight bun and put a brown baseball cap on with the Cal Sci insignia on the bill. She checked to make sure that her name tag was attached to her collar and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.

She walked to the back doors of the truck and opened them. Using the controls she began to lower the lift from the back of the truck. Once it was about three inches lower than the floor of the truck she stopped it and climbed up into the truck.

She pushed the large dolly out of the back and let it drop down onto the lift. Then she maneuvered the Sara lift to the back of the truck. The dolly wasn't flush with the bed of the truck so Shelly used the interior control to lower it another half an inch until they were even before locking the dolly wheels. She rolled the Sara lift onto the dolly then moved to the back of the truck and pushed the crate out. It was hard to move but it rested on a moving blanket that made it slide along the floor of the truck more easily. Once she had the equipment that she needed securely on the dolly she lowered the lift to the ground and pushed the dolly off the lift. The maintenance entrance to the math building was deserted and she left the dolly there while she closed up the truck and parked it away from the entrance, over near the dumpsters in the back.

She made her way into the building and headed straight for the service elevators hoping that she wouldn't run into anyone like she had the other day. She didn't have an explanation for the crate and lift if she were questioned about them. It was still early enough in the day that she could potentially run into faculty and moved rather quickly down the hall. Once safely inside the service elevator she breathed a sigh of relief.

The basement of the math building was large and had several rooms off the long corridor that ran the length of the building. It seemed that at one point this floor was also used as classrooms. The building was fairly old and musty but the thick mortar walls would offer an adequate sound barrier for her work. Near the east end of the corridor there was a rather large store room on the left. She had cleared out a large space in the center of this room for her operating table.

She had spent the better part of a day clearing the projectors, blackboards, boxes of books and other stored items along the outer walls of the room. She turned the dolly with some difficulty in the narrow corridor until she was able to get it through the doorway. She checked her watch, it was two thirty and she smiled. She had plenty of time but wanted to make sure that Agent Eppes was fully secured before she took a break.

She removed the lid from the crate and looked in at the agent crumpled in a heap at the bottom. She reached in and took his gun and holster off of his limp body and placed it on top of the boxes next to the door. She locked the dolly wheels again and pushed the Sara lift off onto the cement floor. The lift banged down hard but these things were practically indestructible and had been through far worse during its years of service in the geriatric nursing field. Then she took a deep breath and pushed the crate over on its side. Don and the other contents of the crate tumbled out onto the floor next to the lift.

It only took her a few minutes to pull the limp agent up into a sitting position and drape his arms into the lift apparatus. She secured his upper body to the lift with the Velcro straps that were attached to it and began to crank up the hydraulic shaft which pulled the unconscious man up into a standing position. She turned the lift to the side and pushed it up against the table before releasing the pressure on the suspension lowering Don against the table.

Shelly then locked the lift wheels and moved around to the side of it. She picked up his legs and swung them up onto the table before lowering his upper body the rest of the way down. She moved the lift and the dolly off to the far end of the room just past the end of her table and set about strapping her victim down.

Once she had Don securely imprisoned she checked her watch again. She wasn't ready to begin with him yet and he was already showing signs of coming around. She went over to the dolly and pulled a small case out of the crate that she had transported him in. She pulled out a syringe and a small vial of fluid and carefully measured out a small amount of the drug.

Don began to moan softly and turn his head trying to shake off the effects of the tranquilizer. Shelly moved over to the side of the table and using a scalpel she sliced open his shirt sleeve exposing his arm. Don's eyes cracked open and he looked at her. As he focused on her face she smiled at him and bent down to kiss him. Don tried to back away from her but found himself securely tied down. His eyes shot open wide in alarm. Shelly pushed the needle into his vein and leered down at Don as she pushed the contents into his bloodstream.

"That should keep you quiet for a couple of hours dear. I'll be back soon."

Don's vision began to cloud. "Why are you doing this?"

"Shelly removed the needle and reached over to stroke the side of Don's face. "Shhh. We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

Don turned his face away from her as the blackness overtook him again. Shelly went back to the dolly and pushed it aside to reach for a box that she had stored earlier in the week. She pulled out a small bottle of bleach and decanted some into a thermos then capped it tightly. Then she took a bottle of nail polish remover, a small brown bottle that was unlabeled and a couple of brillo pads and stuffed them into a small fanny pack.

She checked her watch once more and adjusted the name tag on her collar before heading out of the store room and securely locking it with a padlock. She took a large sign that read:

Do not enter

Hazardous spill to be cleaned by LA Hazmat Team

Maintenance

She made her way out of the math building and walked over to the silver Taurus parked in the west end parking lot and drove downtown to the federal building.

* * *

Colby sat in front of the fax machine tapping his fingers impatiently. He had called Quantico and spoken to the archive clerk at two o'clock requesting the file on Shelly Arbury. After an hour of waiting he had called back and was told by this clerk that the transfer had to be approved by the CO who had been out of the building at the time. She assured him that she would get the fax taken care of within the next half an hour. It was now almost three thirty and Colby's patience was wearing thin. Megan came over to him and asked if he had gotten the file yet.

"I have called twice now trying to get the thing sent over. The clerk I spoke to gave me some bogus excuse that she needed to clear the fax through the CO first. That was almost half an hour ago."

Megan frowned and nodded. "Ok, look if it isn't here in the next few minutes, I'll call and speak directly to the CO."

David walked up to the two of them holding some printouts.

"Ok, I got some information on Shelly Arbury. She worked as the librarian at Quantico between 1991 and 1996. After that she worked as a nursing assistant at the Mayflower Estates Home for the Aging until 1998. Then she worked in a variety of smaller nursing homes as well as an in-home nursing service until she took a position with a discount medical supply company in 2003 called Med Link. The company went bankrupt five months ago. After that she seems to have fallen off the grid. No credit card activity. She moved out of her apartment shortly after the company went under. If she is continuing to use and pay for utilities including cell service it is under an assumed name. She grew up in West Virginia with her aunt and uncle."

David flipped through the pages and continued. "Tom and Louise Cantor took her in after a fire killed both of her parents when she was nine. She and her seven year old cousin Rebecca were the only ones to survive the fire."

Colby looked up startled. "Rebecca?" He turned to Megan and said, "That is the name of the archive clerk who has been jerking me around about this fax. Rebecca Cantor!"

"It's her cousin! Colby get the CO on the line right now. I need to talk to Merrick."

Megan turned and walked quickly to the assistant director's office. He was on the phone when she knocked and walked in. Just then the building general and smoke alarms went off. He and Megan rushed out into the bull pen and started yelling for everyone to head for the stairs. Once they made it down to the lobby level they were forced to continue to the parking garage. The lobby was in a shambles. There was smoke and debris everywhere. The sound of distant sirens filled the air as the fire department rushed to the scene.

* * *

Charlie had spent the last two hours playing chess with Larry as his father gathered boxes of books that he planned to donate to the library. Alan decided that he needed to do something to occupy himself. Stan had called yesterday and told him that the meetings earlier in the week had gone well and they could take a bit of a break while they waited to hear from their perspective clients about their bids.

The Pasadena Public Library in Grant Park was always happy to incorporate used books in good condition onto their shelves. Alan had decided months ago to go through the stored volumes to donate, but had managed to put it off due to his growing business.

By four o'clock Charlie was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the game that he and Larry were playing. He got up several times and began pacing and biting his fingernails.

"Charles, what is it?"

Charlie stopped mid stride and looked over at his friend. He quickly put his hand down as he realized that Larry had noticed that he was biting his nails.

"I don't know Larry. Why isn't Don back yet? He said he needed to check on something but that was hours ago."

Larry sat back in his chair and scratched his head absently. "There are several explanations for his delay. We don't even know what he went to look into."

"But he's not supposed to be working on this case now." Charlie started pacing again.

"That's true but if he thought of something that would help to solve it you know as well as I do that he would not keep that information to himself."

Larry studied his friend for a moment. He had a pensive and almost pained look in his eyes.

"Charles, there is something else isn't there?"

"I don't know Larry, something just feels wrong. I can't explain it, or even identify what is making me feel this way."

Alan stepped into the living room where they were playing and held up a glass of water and a small white pill.

"I may have an explanation for that. You are past due for this."

He held out the glass and the medication to his younger son who frowned. "Dad, I don't really think that those are necessary. I'm not depressed."

"Charlie these are not just anti-depressants. They help with the anxiety. The doctor wants you to get these anxiety attacks under control and so do I. If taking medication is a way to accomplish that then it is only logical to take it."

Charlie grudgingly took the proffered pill and water and swallowed the medication then handed the glass back to his father who took it out to the kitchen. As Alan turned and walked away Charlie muttered under his breath, "I'm not a child."

Larry, who had remained silent during this exchange, turned around and started putting the chess set away thinking that for a man who insisted on not being treated like a child he certainly had a tendency to act like one.

"What?"

Larry knew that the look on his face had not gone unnoticed by the young mathematician. He didn't really want to get into a debate with him about the use of medication or his father's 'coddling' as Charlie had called it during an earlier conversation. Instead he finished putting the pieces of the game away and picked up the remote to the television.

"It's nothing, Charles. It is however obvious that chess isn't a sufficient distraction so perhaps we could just sit a watch a movie."

"I don't want to watch TV, Larry. I want to know what is taking Don so long to get back."

Larry sighed deeply and set the remote down. When Don had left the cemetery earlier he had given Larry a look that had clearly been a request for him to stay with Charlie until he returned and he was finding Charlie's mood a little difficult to cope with at the moment.

"Charles, I am sure that everything is fine. Don had a lead that I am sure he decided to share with the rest of the team. The traffic at this time of day alone could account for the time it is taking him to return. Have you tried calling his cell phone?"

Charlie picked up the phone and dialed without answering Larry. He listened for a moment before setting the phone back down.

"It says he's out of the service area, which probably means that he is inside a building where he isn't getting reception." Charlie began pacing again. "Look, I'm sorry that I seem so out of sorts, Larry. I've been cooped up in the house all week and it's starting to get to me."

Alan had just walked back into the living room and heard this. "I have the perfect solution. Why don't you help me get these boxes of books out to the car and you can go with me down to the library."

Charlie looked at his father then outside at the late afternoon sun. It was nearly 4:30 in the afternoon and Don really should be getting back soon, but sitting around the house waiting was starting to get him a little twisted. He had already felt like an anxiety attack was threatening as he grew more and more concerned about Don's prolonged absence.

"All right Dad. Where are these boxes?"

"They are all on the counter in the kitchen."

Larry and Charlie went out to the kitchen and each grabbed a box of books to take to the car. Once they had loaded them all into the trunk Alan turned to Larry.

"Are you coming, Larry?"

Larry wasn't sure what he wanted to do at this point. He felt slightly obligated to stay until Don came home but he got an impression that Charlie needed to talk to his father alone.

"I think I'll stay here and wait for Don, if that's all right?" he directed that last at Charlie.

"You are always welcome to come and go as you wish, Larry. We shouldn't be gone for very long. I'll see you in a bit."

Alan and Charlie got in the car and Larry watched as they drove off down the street. He watched for a few minutes after they had turned the corner out of sight lost in thought.

Charlie stared off into space for the first two blocks. Alan decided that now was as good a time as any to try and talk to his son about this experience and his consulting.

"Do you remember telling me a few weeks back that you thought that you were wasting your time consulting with the Bureau?"

Charlie turned and looked incredulously at his father.

"Yeah, I remember. I also remember taking it back and you defending my work with the FBI."

"The time that you have spent working with Don has brought the two of you much closer together. That is something that makes me very happy. There have been times when I have wondered about how deeply you get involved with Don's cases however. Last year when that sniper was going around killing people I nearly had a heart attack when I found out that you were going to crime scenes. Then last month, the way you were affected by that drug dealer and pedophile, made me question your involvement again."

Charlie looked away from his father and out the window. Alan could see that he was starting to shut him out and he needed to get his point across before that happened.

"Listen to me, Charlie. I know that you can make your own decisions but you are not equipped to deal with the horrors that your brother faces on a daily basis. If consulting for the FBI is going to put you into situations where you have to be exposed to so much violence and danger then maybe you should re-think that issue. This isn't the life you chose for yourself."

Charlie turned back to look at his father. Alan couldn't read what was behind his son's troubled eyes.

"I'm not a child who needs to be protected you know. Besides it's a little late for that now anyway."

"Charlie, I'm not saying that you are a child."

"Dad, don't, ok?" Charlie looked away for a moment gathering his thoughts. "There is no way back, it's like when mom died…  
…all that time I spent hiding away from you and Don…  
…hiding from her."

Charlie grew silent again and Alan held his tongue, allowing his son to speak when he felt comfortable.

"Once she was gone, that was it. All of those hours, all of those days that I could have spent _with_ her are gone…" Charlie's voice softened to a whisper. "…and I can never get them back."

Alan wanted to embrace Charlie and take away that regret, but he knew he couldn't. Charlie was right. He robbed himself of the time he could have spent saying good bye to his mother by escaping into his world of numbers.

"When I fall asleep, I hear his screams and there's nothing I can do. I can't save him…  
…I can't ease his pain. All I can do is listen to him die."

Charlie paused again and when he spoke it was so soft that Alan almost missed it.

"There's no going back.…"

"The man that I was only a week ago is gone… and he's not coming back."

Alan had patiently listened to Charlie as he spoke but this was going in a direction that he didn't like. "I thank God every day that you were spared. Charlie, please don't say that."

When Charlie turned to his father he had a fierce look in his eye and an edge to his voice. "Why? It's true. Your son died that night! Now all you have left is me; a poor replacement."

This was too much. Alan pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. He turned in his seat to face his son with an overwhelming fear shining in his eyes.

"Don't say that, Charlie! You are not a different man now than you were before this happened. You have been through a horrible experience but you need to realize that it isn't the experiences that we endure in this life that define us as men, but what we take away from them."

Alan wasn't sure what to expect at this point, but the defeat in Charlie's eyes was such an abrupt change from the near defiance he had shown only a moment before surprised him, and made his heart ache. Charlie looked down his cheeks growing red with shame and began to speak in a low and almost sad voice.

"I know what it is to hate… to really have a true hatred for another human being. I feel it inside me. It burns, like a hot coal. It's always there under all other emotions; fear… sorrow… despair. They're transient. They come and they go, but the hate remains. It's a constant companion."

Charlie looked up and felt an awful hopelessness descend over him. "It's like a cancer, eating away at my soul. I don't know how to _not_ feel this. Larry said that I should just feel what ever emotions I am having but I don't want this. I feel like I am turning so far away from who I used to be that I'll be lost forever before too long."

Charlie looked away from his father then. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment he was sure would be there in his eyes.

"You know what the scariest part is? I'm getting used to it."

Charlie sat back in his seat and stared out the front window. Alan was at a loss. His son's words had deeply disturbed him.

"Charlie, you will not feel this way forever. I have no way to prove that to you, I can only tell you that it is true. Please, son, give yourself some time. It has only been a few days since this happened. I will do whatever it takes to help you get through this, but you can't give up."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Alan waited for a moment watching Charlie, hoping that he would say something else or turn to look at him, but he just sat still gazing out the window as if oblivious to everything around him.

Alan sighed and turned back pulling the car back out into traffic. They drove the rest of the way to the library in silence.

When they arrived Alan and Charlie took all of the boxes up to the main desk. They were able to do this in two trips and the head librarian came out to speak to Alan while Charlie took a seat on one of the benches near the reference section.

As he looked around a feeling of nostalgia swept over him. It was a different life when he came down here on his bike to this library. He remembered so many long hours spent here, reading anything he could get his hands on that concerned not only mathematics but logic as well. He had practically memorized the Dewey Decimal numbers associated with all of his favorite books.

Suddenly numbers flashed before his eyes. So many different numbers… most of them were six digits long. Each section and topic had it own assigned number then the library coded the last three digits according to what they had in stock. They would always leave at least twenty number spaces between categories and authors for new additions like the ones he and his father had brought in today.

Charlie was panting heavily when his father shook him. "Charlie! Breathe son, what is it?"

Charlie came out of his musings with an almost frantic start. "Oh, God! How could I have been so blind? It's the Dewey Decimal System! That's what they are! It's not a code, it's like Larry said. They are raw data. They represent books!"

Charlie stood abruptly practically dragging his father by the arm. "Come on Dad, I have to get home. I have to log onto the Quantico system! It's all there. The entire thing is on-line!"

Alan couldn't get a word in edgewise as Charlie ranted. They had reached the car and Alan stopped short. "Charlie! What is this all about? What are you talking about?"

"The numbers, dad; the number clues left by this killer. They refer to books; books in a library. It must be the library at Quantico."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N - **Becky S contacted me and explained that I had the explanation of the Dewey Decimal System wrong. She is a librarian and knows what she is talking about, so I thank her for the insight. At some point I will go back and change that explanation in the last chapter so that it is accurate. If any other librarians out there noticed this and it threw you out of the story I apologize. I try to make sure I do enough research about unfamiliar subject matter so that this sort of thing doesn't happen. I just kind of blew it on this aspect of the tale.  
Thanks again for the information Becky. As I have said many times all constructive comments are welcome. This chapter is yet another cliff hanger. Sorry but that is just kind of my style of writing. I hope you all enjoy it and I thank you all for the comments and praise. That is almost as good as a real paycheck :-)

Yours Sincerely,  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Megan tried to contact Don on his cell but got no answer. This seemed very out of character and she started to worry. She called Charlie's house and much to her surprise Larry answered the phone.

"Larry? This is Megan, is Don there?"

"I'm sorry Megan, Don hasn't come back yet. I assumed that he was with you or David. When he left the cemetery he had thought of something and said that he was going to go check on it but would be back here later. That was quite a few hours ago however. Didn't he call you?"

"Are you watching the news?"

Larry pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it as though it had grown feathers or something. He put it back and said, "I... what?"

"Larry, turn on the news. Any station will probably be airing this right now."

Larry picked up the remote and turned the channel from HBO to a local broadcast and nearly dropped the phone when he saw all of the police and fire response in front of the federal building; the building where Megan worked.

"My God, what's happening? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine Larry. We all got out ok. A bomb went off in the front Lobby and two security guards were injured by shrapnel and noxious gas inhalation. It looks like some sort of homemade explosive and we think that it may have been set off by the killer. Don isn't here, but he _should_ be there. He called around two o'clock because he had a lead on who this killer might be. He had to pick up one of his old notebooks from the academy and was going right back to Charlie's house with it."

Larry was staring horror struck at the television screen. "But that was almost three hours ago."

"I know; something's wrong here. Look they are letting us back into the building now. I'm sending David over there. Call me on my cell if Don turns up. Listen, until we know what's going on, don't say anything to Charlie."

Just as Larry hung up the phone Alan's car pulled into the driveway and moments later Charlie came tearing into the house nearly bowling Larry over as he made his way to the stairs. Alan followed the young man in and Larry looked to him with confusion written all over his face.

"He thinks he knows what those… numbers… … mean." Alan's voice trailed off as he looked at the TV screen. "Oh my God! What's happened? Was Don there?"

Alan reached for the phone but Larry intercepted him.

"I just spoke with Megan. Don is not at the federal building. There was a homemade explosive that was set off in the front lobby. No one from the FBI team was injured."

Charlie came charging back down the stairs with his lap top and came over to the couch. As he turned it on and waited for a moment for the system to boot up he glanced at the screen and went white a sheet.

"Don!"

Alan quickly intercepted Charlie. "No, Charlie. Don wasn't there when this happened. No one from the team was hurt. The explosion happened in the lobby. Charlie, did you hear me?"

Charlie tore his eyes away from the TV screen and looked at his father. "He's ok, he wasn't there?"

"No Charlie, he wasn't there."

* * *

Megan and the tem re-entered the office and she headed straight for the fax machine. Colby had managed to contact the CO at Quantico before the alarms went off and he personally went down to the archives and pulled Shelly Arbury's file.

The fax was sitting in the tray and Megan snatched it up quickly and began scanning the pages. David had left for Charlie's place and Colby stepped up to Megan just as she swore under her breath.

"What is it?"

"This woman was investigated for inappropriate conduct like Don said. This file lists every one of the trainees that testified about her. Michael Carter, Merrill Hauser, Devon Wilson, Robert Franklin, Daniel Edwards, Daryl Bliss, Jonathan O'Donnell and Donald Eppes."

Colby looked up startled and Megan pulled out her phone to try and call him again. She got no response. The system was saying that he was out of the service area.

"Colby, get over to Don's apartment and check it out."

Megan walked over to Merrick's office and walked in without knocking. She set the fax down on his desk and said, "Don is missing and he is the last victim on this killer's list. The only thing we have to go on at this point are those numbers left on the bodies."

"Oh my God." Merrick looked over the pages she had put before him. "Has cryptology gotten anywhere with these numbers?"

"No sir. I am bringing Charlie back on the case."

Merrick looked up quickly at her ready to form an objection but Megan cut him off.

"Charlie is the only person who could figure this out in time. He's the only chance that Don has. Sir, I'm not asking for your permission, I'm telling you that this is what I intend to do."

She turned and walked out of Merrick's office and dialed Charlie's number hoping that Larry would be the one to answer the phone.

* * *

Don first became aware of a painful stiffness in his neck. He tried to move his hand to rub it but found that he couldn't move. This brought him fully awake. The memory of the doll and the baby's cries came back to him.

'_Oh God, how could I have fallen for that?'_

He looked around and knew that he was in deep trouble. He could make out some of the items in the room he was in. He could see blackboards, projectors and boxes with the Cal Sci insignia on them. He was at Cal Sci! This is where his brother worked and taught his students.

'_No, not here. Oh God, Charlie; this will kill him.' _

He was strapped down with duct tape the same way all of the other victims had been. He tried to pull his arms free without any success. A genuine panic started to fill him and he struggled hard against his bonds to no avail.

Don heard a movement off to his right and strained to see who was there. Shelly Arbury walked out of the shadows and into his line of vision.

"You must weigh a little more than I thought. I wasn't expecting you to wake up for another hour, but no matter. It is between semesters and we are the only people in the building."

"Why are you doing this Shelly? What did I ever do to you? What did those other men do to make you hate them so much?"

A manic gleam entered her eyes. She held a photocopy of her Quantico file in her hand and waved it in front of his face.

"What did you do? What did they do?" She reached back her free hand and slapped Don hard across the face.

"I wasn't good enough for you. No you, the star trainee wouldn't think of lowering himself to go out with a woman raised in poverty who had to claw her way out of the slums. I worked hard to get where I was at Quantico! That job meant more to me than you could ever know; more than you cared to know! You and your friends weren't satisfied just to snub me. Oh no, you had to conspire to get me fired."

"That's not true."

Shelly shoved the paper with the list of names right in Don's face. "Not true? This is proof that you are a liar, just like all the others. You all got together and made up dirty lies about me. I was only one person. They wouldn't believe me; that I was innocent and that you men took advantage of me. You men are all the same, dirty rotten liars; users; bastards! You all had your way with me and when you were done you threw me out like so much garbage! You are just like my parents! They wanted to send me away; to put me in a _'home'_ for disturbed children! They wanted to throw me away too!"

Don could see that she was losing control of her emotions and he tried to use that to his advantage.

"Tell me about them."

"What? You want to know about my parents?" Shelly asked incredulously. "Why?"

"I want to understand you. I want to know why you feel this pain."

'_I want to stall for time.'_

Shelly eyed him suspiciously for a moment. Don did the best that he could to look concerned and caring. Shelly walked away from him and started pacing. She began muttering under her breath and Don caught a couple of words. "trick… liar…" Suddenly she stopped pacing and stepped back into Don's line of vision.

"All right, you want to know about my parents? Fine. My father was a useless ignorant drunk. He used emotional blackmail like a weapon against my mother. He always resented the fact that my mother got pregnant and had me. Children were not a part of his game plan for life. He was a worthless brut who deserved what he got!"

Shelly was panting slightly with emotion. "My mother… my mother imparted one gift only to me; a love for the written word. She was also a librarian and I spent a good chunk of my early childhood in the stacks with her. She taught me to read by the time I was five, but that is all she had to offer. She was a weak and spineless woman who allowed my father to cow her into submission. I learned at a very early age to never let any man dominate me or control my destiny, but that all changed with you and your friend's treachery."

Don wondered about her statement that her parents tried to send her away to a psychiatric facility. That is not something that could be hidden and if she had a psych history she wouldn't have gotten the job at Quantico. He tried to redirect her away from her perceived revenge.

"Your parents, they didn't send you away though."

"Of course they didn't. I made sure of that. I took control of the course that my life would take. It was easy. My father was passed out drunk so I killed my mother first, before I moved on to the old bastard. No one was sending me any where I didn't want to be…"

Shelly's face contorted into a mask of pure hate. "…until you and your buddies decided to get me thrown out of the only job I ever loved! All I ever wanted was to be with someone; someone who wasn't a mindless drunk. Someone who could talk with me on an equal basis, but I wasn't good enough for you was I?"

"Shelly I never tried to hurt you. I was dating someone else when you asked me out. You say that men are all the same. How much respect would you have had for me if I had cheated on my girlfriend?"

"You are listed right here you bastard. You told them lies about me! You were in on it with the others. I have the proof right here!"

"Shelly, the CO came to me and asked me about you. I told the truth. These men didn't mean to hurt you. You don't have to do this."

She looked down at him and a wicked grin turned the corners of her mouth.

"No, I don't have to, but I want to. I want to cause you as much pain as you caused me. After I was fired from Quantico I couldn't find work in any library. That stain you put there followed me. The best I could do was find work as a nurse's aide. A nurse's aide doesn't make enough money to survive let alone advance in any way. I spent the next several years coming home to a shitty little apartment smelling of urine and feces! I ended up taking care of nasty old empty people just like my parents. You all knocked me back down into the gutter that I climbed out of!"

She threw the file aside and placed both hands on Don's chest. He flinched involuntarily at the touch which made her smile even wider and she began to caress him.

"I am going to tear the heart out of you the same way you tore it out of me."

She curled her fingers around the opening of his shirt and ripped it apart with a powerful jerk.

* * *

As Charlie got the rising panic that he felt when looking at the news broadcast under control the phone rang. Larry was nearest and picked it up.

"Eppes residence."

"Larry, I don't want to do this but I need to speak to Charlie, he has to come back on the case."

"Megan, he has figured out the numbers already. He's right here with me. He says that they are the Dewey Decimal numbers associated with books from the Quantico library."

"That fits. Larry our killer was the librarian at Quantico! Larry, listen to me. Don is missing. We think that the killer has him."

Larry sat down hard on the arm of the couch. "Oh God, Megan, are you sure?"

"His is the last name on a list of trainees who testified against this woman during an investigation that ended up in her dismissal from Quantico. Every name on that list corresponds to one of her victims."

Charlie looked over at Larry and felt his heart leap into his throat.

"What is it Larry?"

"Charles, you need to find out if you are right about those numbers now!"

The command in Larry's voice set him into action. He started typing fast with shaking hands. When the web site for the Quantico Library came up, he used his NSA clearance ID to get in. In the search box he typed the first number found on the first victim. A moment later a picture of the book with a summary came up on the screen.

"Ok the first number found on Michael Carter goes to a book called The Lebesgue-Stieltjes Integral: A Practical IntroductionI know this book, I've read it. It was written by Michael Carter and Bruce Van Brunt who are both lecturers at MassachusettsUniversity."

Charlie took the phone from Larry.

"Megan is that you?"

"Yes Charlie."

"Pull all the files. I don't have my copies anymore. Where was Michael Carter found?"

Charlie heard Megan telling someone to give her all of the case files on the victims. She came back on the line a moment later.

"He was found in the basement of the math building at MassachusettsUniversity."

Charlie didn't need to ask what the next number was. He had those numbers burned into his memory from hours of trying to decipher them. He punched in the second number that was found on Agent Carter's body and the next book came up on the screen.

"The second number refers to a book called Rhetorical Democracy: Discursive Practices of Civic Engagement by Gerard A. Hauser and Amy Grim."

"Merrill Hauser was found at Amy Lanes bowling alley in Chicago! Charlie these books tell who and where the next victims will be. What's the next book that comes up?"

Charlie's hands were shaking badly now and he had to type the number in a couple of times to get it right.

"It's called 'Written in Blood: A History of Forensic Detection' by Colin Wilson and Damon Wilson. I don't see the clue to his location in the title. Where was the next agent found?"

Charlie could hear Megan flipping through papers.

"Devon Wilson found in the print room of Carroll and Graf Publishers."

Charlie scrolled down through the book information and found it.

"Hang on; this book was published by Carroll and Graf. It even has an address; 245 West Ave. Baltimore MD."

Charlie was already typing the next set of numbers in before Megan asked what they showed.

"The next thing that comes up is 'Exposing Cults : When the Skeptical Mind Confronts the Mystical' by David Christopher Lane. What is the fourth agent's name?"

"Robert Franklin, and he was found in an abandoned shop called The Mystical for the Skeptic. But his name isn't referred to in the title."

Charlie started scrolling down further. He went to the table of contents and found a chapter that held the answer.

"The fifth chapter is titled 'The Strange Case of Franklin Jones'." Charlie closed his fists for a second to try and stop the tremors before he continued to type.

"Wasn't Danny Edwards found in an old warehouse for Global Horizons? The next book is 'Jonathan Edwards at Home and Abroad: Historical Memories, Cultural Movements, Global Horizons'." A moment later Charlie said, "Darryl was found at the Lauren Park Conservatory and the next book is 'Solo Bliss: The Single Girl's Guide to Enlightenment by Jennifer Lauren'."

The next set of numbers were going to reveal Jon's name and Charlie allowed the phone that he had been cradling between his shoulder and his ear to fall to his lap. He could feel the beginnings of a panic attack and tried to calm himself before continuing. Larry picked up the phone and spoke to Megan quietly.

"Give him a moment."

Charlie took slow deep breaths as he typed in the numbers that would lead to the book that sealed Jon's fate. Larry looked over at the screen and reported what was seen to Megan.

"The next book that comes up is 'Paedar O'Donnell' by Donal O Drisceoil. It says in the synopsis that O'Donnell was the editor of the legendary "Bell Magazine" in the late forties and early fifties."

Charlie looked at the screen before him as tears that formed blurred his vision. He looked up at Larry and asked for the number that had been left with Jon.

Larry sat down next to Charlie and cradling the phone the same way he had and pulled the laptop over in front of him. Megan told Larry the clue on Jon's body and Larry typed it into the search box.

What came up on the screen took the breath out of Charlie. It was a mathematical and engineering publication. One that he was very familiar with because he had published a paper in this periodical called "H infinity control of non-linear systems"

All the color drained from Charlie's face as he started at the screen. Charlie tried to say his brother's name but no sound issued from his mouth. Don was the next victim! The article that Charlie wrote and published had sealed his brother's fate. Charlie tried to take a breath but his lungs didn't cooperate, he sat there frozen with terror etched in every line of his face.

Larry looked over at Charlie and set the phone down. Charlie wasn't breathing and seemed to be in a state of shock. Larry took Charlie by the shoulders and shook him.

"Charles! Breathe!"

Alan was confused. He saw what was on the screen but didn't understand why it had effect Charlie so deeply. Charlie tore his eyes away from the computer screen and looked at Larry. The panic in his eyes turned hard and was replaced with such a stony look of pure fury that Larry sat back a little from his friend.

Alan could hear Megan's voice coming from the phone and he picked it up. Suddenly Charlie was on his feet. He pushed past his father and ran to the front door grabbing his father's car keys as he went.

"Charlie! What… Where are you going?" But he was out the front door before Alan could even finish his sentence.

"What the hell is going on? What was that all about?"

Larry grabbed the phone from Alan and shouted into the mouth piece. "Megan, Charlie just took off out of here. The last thing that came up was Multidiscipline Modeling in Materials and Structures. It's an engineering publication that Charles published an article in. I think he's headed to Cal Sci. The first victim was found in the basement of the math building at Massachusetts University; isn't that right?"

"So it would fit to have the final victim… Oh my God, Larry you and Mr. Eppes stay put. I'll call David and have him go to Cal Sci. I'm on my way!"

* * *

Charlie drove like a demon to the Cal Sci campus. It was pure luck that he wasn't pulled over by the local police for speeding and driving recklessly. A tiny part of his brain was almost hoping that a police cruiser would attempt to pull him over.

Charlie screeched to a stop right in front of the math building and jumped out of the car without even turning it off. He was only peripherally aware of the fact that the panic that he had been feeling when he saw the math publication come up on the screen was no longer there.

He had a blinding rage pumping through him that had taken control. He was going to kill someone today and found that this feeling was not as frightening as he thought it would be. He bolted up the steps to the math building and ran head long down the main corridor to the stairs that led to the basement.

The door was locked but in his heightened state of agitation this posed no problem for the somewhat slight professor. With a mighty kick he broke the door open and it slammed hard against the stairwell wall. He charged down the stairs and came out at the end of the long main corridor that ran the length of the math building.

He was suddenly unable to move as a wave of emotion washed over him, threatening to drown him. Coming from a room near the other end of the corridor he heard his brother's screams and he was instantly transported back to the print room where Jon was murdered.

He swayed precariously for a moment and put his hand out to the wall to brace himself and he lowered his head as a strong feeling of nausea engulfed him. Don's voice rang out down the corridor again and something inside of Charlie clicked into place. He looked up and his dark eyes held a frightening inferno.

'_It's time for you to die!'_

Charlie quickly made his way down the corridor and came to the room that his brother's voice was emanating from. He pushed the door open and saw his brother lying on a plywood table made from wooden boards and two saw horses. He had been strapped down just like all of the other victims with duct tape. His shirt had been ripped open and his chest had been incised from the collarbones to below the bottom of his breast bone.

An 'F' shaped steel retractor had been placed in the open wound. The spine of the retractor had a turn crank that was used to separate the curved blades and a blond haired woman stood on the far side of his brother turning that handle slowly and smiling down at him as his flesh was being pulled apart.

Don's exposed body was sleek with sweat pale as a sheet. There was a copious amount of blood covering his chest and running down the sides of his body dripping onto the floor. It looked as though his brother would bleed to death any minute. Charlie had never seen so much blood and the nausea almost consumed him again but he spied Don's gun and holster out of the corner of his eye.

Some how the sight of that gun pushed the nausea down and brought the rage back to the forefront of Charlie's consciousness. Shelly had picked up her scalpel again and was cutting a grove down the center of Don's breast bone. Don's cries were becoming weaker as he drifted closer to unconsciousness.

Charlie reached over and picked up the gun and leveled it directly at Shelly's head. She was so intent on what she was doing that she had failed to notice that Charlie had come into the room and was quite startled when he shouted.

"Get away from him!"

Don turned his head toward the sound of his brother's voice and behind his pain glazed orbs Charlie saw raw fear. He had never seen fear in his older brother's eyes. All their years growing up, Don had always been the strong one. He had always been fearless and the fact that this woman had made his big brother feel that kind of fear increased his fury ten fold.

Shelly also looked up very surprised to be interrupted in her task. She recovered very quickly and said, "Well, well, well; if it isn't the very clever Professor Eppes. What are you going to do, boy; shoot me? You haven't got the stones!"

Charlie tore his gaze away from his brother and stared this killer in the face. Her smile faded as she saw the look in this young mans eyes. She recognized the hate and desire to kill in the professor. This was not how she had expected her final kill to happen, but there was one thing that Shelly prided herself on; and that was adaptability. She held the blade in her fist six inches above Don's exposed chest ready to plunge it into his heart between the ribs.

"Back away from him or I swear to God I will kill you where you stand!"

Charlie took another step forward so that at this distance there was no chance of him missing his target.

"This _is_ an interesting turn of events. You said that you wanted your brother to shoot me between the eyes. Do you remember that Professor? This is your chance. I can see murder in your eyes professor."

"BACK AWAY FROM HIM NOW!"

Charlie was shouting and felt shaky with the uncontrollable rage running through his veins. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger and she would be dead, but at what cost. Shelly could almost read his mind because his eyes were so expressive that his internal struggle was clear in his features.

"You have a choice to make now. Pull that trigger and step over the line; become the monster and save your brother's life. All I have to do in move my hand down and he will die, but you can prevent that. So the question you must ask yourself is this: Will you trade your immortal soul for the life of your brother?"

Neither of them paid any attention to the sound of running down the hall outside the room. David came charging in his gun held ready. The scene before him when he entered that store room was so shocking that he stopped for a moment at a loss for words.

"Go ahead, professor, you know you want to do it! Pull the trigger."

David turned his head toward Charlie and saw the look on his face. "Charlie, put the gun down man. I'm here now; she will be taken into custody. It's over. Don't do it man, this is not who you are Charlie. Don't let her turn you into someone that you're not."

Shelly did not want to be taken alive. She wanted her revenge and would take the death of the younger mans soul as payment. She started to sing with an evil sneer on her face.

"I left my heart in San Francisco. High on a hill, it calls to me…"

"SHUT UP!"

"Shut me up! You're running out of time professor!"

Don was having trouble staying conscious during this but he managed to call softly to Charlie.

"Charlie…"

Charlie moved his eyes from Shelly's face and he saw a tear falling down the side Don's face. He had never seen his brother cry and it tore at his heart. Don's voice was weak and so soft that David who was standing a little further away had to strain to hear the words.

"I have faith in you. I will never give up on you, Charlie. _Never_."

The words that his brother had spoken in the cemetery a few days ago and now again here cut through the burning ember of rage and touched Charlie's heart. His eyes softened and he began to lower the gun when Shelly shouted.

"Time's up!"

She swung the hand holding the scalpel down to Don's chest. Don saw the flash of steel out of the corner of his eye as the blade passed through the light from the florescent bulb over head, he heard Charlie scream "NO!" and then the gunshot or was it two. Blackness took him and he knew no more.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N – **After writing most of Chapter Twenty-Three and going back to proof, I decided to let this first part stand alone. The rest of the chapter will become Chapter Twenty-Four and it is nearly finished so it should be up in the next couple of days.  
Also I wanted to respond to a comment that was left by a reader but there was no e-mail so I'll do that at the end of this sequence.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

_My body feels heavy but the pain in my chest isn't as bad now._

_I can hear voices but they seem so far away. _

_I'm breathing, I can hear the air moving in and out of my body…  
__The voices are getting louder…  
__there is one…  
…it's… familiar. _

"_Please, Don you have to hold on! Help is coming!"_

_One of the voices is angry…  
_…_furious. I can't make out the words. It's so full of rage that I feel...  
_…_is that fear?_

_I'm not afraid for me; I know I'm going to die…  
_…_I'm afraid for someone… someone my death will hurt… _

_I'm so tired. _

_The angry voice is getting louder now. It's screaming… "liar… die you bastard!"_

_Another deeper voice starts yelling "Get her out of here."_

_I'm so tired.  
__I wish the voices would stop yelling.  
__I just need to sleep for a while.  
_

_There are more voices now, but I can't make out what they are saying… _

_I'm so tired._

_A bright light is there…  
_…_I don't like it…  
_…_soon it's gone. _

_An unfamiliar voice is close now. _

"_He's in shock! He's lost too much blood" _

_The voice says something else but it's starting to fade just like the others. _

_The heaviness in my body starts to fade…  
__I'm floating like a feather on the breeze.  
__I'm drifting away now.  
__It's quiet and blackness is everywhere.  
__I'm sinking into a stillness.  
__It's peaceful… it's quiet. _

_Suddenly pain rips away the dark!  
__White hot pain searing through my body!_

_The voices are back. _

"_Go to three hundred!...  
_…_Clear!" _

_More pain. This hurts, oh God please stop.  
__I want to go back to the darkness.  
__There was no pain in the darkness, it was quiet and serene. _

_The familiar voice is back. It breaks with emotion. _

"_You can't give up, you promised, Don. I can't lose you!"_

"_We have a sinus rhythm."_

_Charlie! The voice belongs to Charlie.  
__I remember now… It was sunny. We sat in front of mom's grave. I told him that I would never give up on him…  
… I promised him. I try to call to him. _

"_He's coming around."_

"Charlie…"

_I look and see brown eyes full of fear and relief staring into mine.  
I try say that I won't break my promise, but the words don't come._

_Someone is holding my hand…  
_…_it's Charlie…  
_…_I squeeze his with all my strength. I know he understands; I won't give up. _

_I'm so tired…_

…_my eyes close but I listen to Charlie's voice.  
__He's speaking. He's saying that he's there; he won't leave.  
Charlie's voice is my anchor. If I hold on I won't fall back into the darkness._

_Sounds are fading again. It's growing quiet but I hold on to that voice.  
__I can't hear it now but my heart knows it's there.  
__I won't give up. I promised him._

_It's very quiet now.  
__I think I'm moving but everything is muted and distant.  
__I'll sleep for a while._

_The voices are back again but I can't hear Charlie any more.  
__I try to call out to him.  
__I'm not sure they can hear me._

_There are flashes of light… moving quickly.  
__The voices are above me now. _

"_BP's falling…"_

"_Get him up to O.R. STAT!..."_

"_Charlie! Where are you?"_

"_What's his blood type?…"_

"_AB positive, his brother is downstairs. They'll have blood sent up as soon as they are finished."_

_Something is covering my face. I can't breathe…  
__The lights and the voices are going away…  
_…_it's quiet again._

_Charlie…_

* * *

This is a comment left by one reviewer:

**_lex ()_**

**_Charlie dosn't have a drivers license and dosen't have a car_**

Well lex this story is set in season two and Charlie _does_ have a driver's license as we saw in the episode Harvest. Most people get a car after they get a license. Charlie makes a lot of money and would not have a problem affording a vehicle so I am assuming that he has one since he now has a driver's license.  
I will never begrudge any constructive comments and indeed I have used them to try and write a better story. The mistake that I made with the Dewey Decimal System is a case in point of that fact. This comment however didn't really strike me as particularly constructive, but more dismissive. Perhaps I am misinterpreting the reviewer's remark; if that is the case then thank you for trying to point out an error, even though in this case it isn't actually an error. At least you took the time to write something and that effort is appreciated.

I have received so many wonderful reviews and I am eternally grateful for that. I will actually use these reviews when I submit my first original piece to a publisher to show that I have captured at least a small fan fiction audience so these reviews could end up being a huge assistance in a very real way. One reviewer thought that I wrote professionally. That was a very nice thing to say. Actually I am a complete novice. For the full story of my writing background; check out my profile.

I promise as soon as I finish the next bit I'll get it up. The extra time is used well, for proofing and making sure that things are right. Thanks so much for your patience.

Alice I


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Alan and Larry practically charged into the emergency room and stopped short when they saw David. Megan came in just behind them. Larry had explained to Alan where he thought that Charlie had gone and if it hadn't been for the fact that Charlie took his car Alan would have been out the door after his son without regard to Megan's command for them to stay where they were.

"Where are they? Is Don all right? Is Charlie all right?"

David put a calming hand on the elder Eppes' shoulder.

"Don is alive. He has been taken up to surgery. Charlie is in the treatment room giving blood because he matches Don's blood type and they don't have a stock of AB positive on hand."

"Oh my God, what happened to Don? Did this woman… what did she do to my son?"

David looked at Megan then at Larry before looking back to Alan.

"Perhaps we should sit down, sir?"

David told them about Don's injuries as gently as he could, but Alan still grew pale as he listened. He felt his mind reeling with the fact that now both of his sons had been scarred by this woman; scars that would take a very long time to heal. He looked over at Larry not knowing how he was going to get his boys through this experience. Larry could see the unspoken plea in the older man's eyes and took a hold of his hand.

"We will all get through this together. Both Charles and Don are strong young men. They will have us as well as each other."

A nurse came out to the waiting room and called for the Eppes family. Alan got immediately to his feet.

"I'm Alan Eppes. Both of my sons are back there."

"Mr. Eppes, I can take you back to see Charles. He is lying down after donating blood. Your other son has been taken up to the surgical suite. Once Charles is feeling a little better I can take you all up to the surgical lounge."

The four of them followed the nurse back through the ER to a small room near the back of the department. Charlie was lying on a stretcher with his arm crooked over his eyes and his other arm had an IV attached to a large bag of clear fluid.

"Charlie!" Alan said, as he walked quickly over to his youngest.

Charlie sat up immediately and swayed precariously as he did so. Alan reached out and caught him before he fell face first off the stretcher. The nurse who had escorted the others into the room guided Charlie back down to a lying position on the bed.

"You can't just get up like that Mr. Eppes. You are going to need a little while to gather your strength."

She turned to the others. "He donated nearly two pints of blood for his brother's surgery. That is more than the maximum 12 that is allowed for one drawing but without this blood…" She let her words trail off and turned back to Charlie.

"You are staying put right here until I tell you it's all right to get up. At the very least you are not to move until _that_ is empty." she said, indicating the bag of fluid hanging over his head.

During the course of the next hour Charlie lay in the treatment room dosing on and off with Alan and Larry keeping him company. David and Megan left the room so that David could brief her on the events at the collage.

When he received the call from Megan about Charlie and possibly Don's location, David had altered his course and headed straight for Cal Sci pulling up next to Alan's running car. He reached in and took the keys from the ignition before entering the building in search of the Eppes brothers.

He headed immediately for the stairwell to the basement and when he got to the bottom and entered the long corridor he heard Charlie screaming for someone to back away and followed the voices at an almost dead run. When he entered the storeroom he saw Don lying on one of the plywood tables that all of the other victims had been found on with a blonde haired woman holding a scalpel over him ready to plunge the instrument into the agent's exposed chest. The manic gleam in Shelly Arbury's eyes and the fury in Charlie's, stunned him for a moment.

She was actually goading Charlie to shoot her. It was clear to David that this woman had stepped over the edge of sanity and was trying to take Charlie with her. In his career it was not that unusual to see a criminal have the mind set that they would not be taken alive and that certainly seemed to be the case here.

David spoke to Charlie trying to get him to lower the gun he was holding. At first David couldn't understand how Charlie, of all people, had gotten a hold of a gun but he had automatically scanned the scene and he saw Don's empty holster sitting on a box near the door. It was obvious that Charlie had seen the gun and was acting on impulse. He hadn't planned to come here and kill this woman.

When she started to sing "I left My Heart in San Francisco" David could see Charlie starting to loose it. Then Don turned his head so that he was looking directly at his brother. He said something to Charlie that cut through the rage and he started to lower his weapon.

Shelly saw this and became infuriated. She swung her hand upward and brought it down to stab Don. David had less than an instant to react. If he shot her in the head she might have still killed the agent strapped to the table anyway, so he did the only thing he could to prevent the knife from piercing Don's heart.

He shot the scalpel out of her hand while at the same time Charlie fired and hit her in the upper arm near the shoulder. The scalpel skittered away across the room and Shelly fell back screaming in fury and agony holding her injured hand. David moved quickly to subdue and cuff her then he called for help.

Megan had already called for an ambulance to be sent to Cal Sci and David called for a separate rig for Shelly. Charlie had dropped Don's gun and touched his brother's face. He pleaded with him to hold on, that help was coming then he began trying to get the duct tape off of him.

David looked around and saw the scalpel and picked it up to begin _cutting_ the tape off of the unconscious man. It was difficult to cut through the tape because the blade of the instrument was not as sharp as it should have been. David had to suppress the urge to wretch at the thought of this woman using a dull blade to cut Don's chest open.

Megan sent two other agents to Cal Sci to assist David and they arrived shortly before the first ambulance. Shelly sat there screaming about liars and traitors. The men hauled her to her feet and she spit at Don lying there on the table as David and Charlie were removing the last of the duct tape and screamed, "Die you bastard!"

David told them to get her out of there and to wait for the second ambulance to attend to her wounds. Charlie had tears rolling down his face as he tried to rouse Don. The first ambulance had arrived and as the EMT's entered the room they stopped at the sight of the agent lying unconscious on the makeshift operating table with his chest splayed apart with a Dubost Thoracic Retractor.

After a moment they recovered from their shock at this sight and set to work immediately on Don. They removed the retractor which caused enough pain to make Don moan but he didn't wake up.

One of the EMT's used a pen light to check Don's pupils which were equal and reactive but it was clear that the man was in shock from blood loss and trauma. One of the EMTs hooked up a heart monitor while the other one put a large bandage over the wound on Don's chest.

Don's heart rate could be heard on the small monitor near his feet with a soft beeping but was growing slower. It became erratic and then stopped. He had gone into cardiac arrest and Charlie stood back horrified by what was happening. They pulled out a defibrillator and shocked him to try and get his heart going again.

Don's torso pulled up slightly from the board before crashing back down. There was no effect and Charlie started shaking. They shocked him a second time and his body raised even further off the board. Charlie couldn't stand by any longer and approached the head of the table taking one of his brother's hands in his own. Charlie told Don that he had promised him that he wouldn't give up. His words came out through sobs as he pleaded with his brother to come back.

Suddenly Don's heart monitor started beeping again. He began to wake up and cracked his eyes open. Charlie stood over him holding his hand telling him to hang on, that he was there and that he wouldn't leave him. Charlie looked up at the EMT nearest him and locked eyes with the man when he told him that he would _not_ leave his brother.

Don fell back into unconsciousness again but with a steady heart rhythm. They moved him from the table onto a stretcher just as the crime scene investigators arrived. Charlie rode with Don in the ambulance to the hospital while David followed just behind leaving Agent Martin Gibbons in charge of the scene.

A second ambulance had arrived for Shelly Arbury. She was to be treated for the gun shot wounds before being processed.

Alan left the treatment room to get a cup of coffee and walked up behind the agents as they spoke. He was not trying to eves drop on their discussion but he couldn't help but over hear that this woman was being treated for minor gun shot wounds and broke into their conversation.

"You mean that woman is here; in this hospital?"

David and Megan spun around startled by the man's presence. Alan looked back toward the emergency department as though he were going to go looking for her. Megan quickly and walked over to Mr. Eppes making sure that she stood between him and the emergency department.

"She was taken to a different hospital Mr. Eppes. She has two agents with her and they will stay with her until she is released. She will be escorted to our detention area for questioning and then processed."

Alan started pacing with a dark look on his face. "I can understand the anger; the rage that Charlie has been feeling. I have never fundamentally agreed with the death penalty…  
…until now."

Once Charlie had finished up the IV and was feeling a little steadier, the group was escorted up to the surgical lounge to wait for Don's doctor. Colby arrived shortly after they had all taken seats to update Megan on the case.

He had found Don's vehicle parked and locked in the lot next to his apartment building. Shelly's cousin, Rebecca Cantor, had not been found yet. Her apartment looked tossed as if she packed in a hurry. Once she was apprehended she would be taken into custody and charged with accessory to murder and attempted murder.

Don had been in surgery for over three hours when the doctor came out into the lounge. Alan and Charlie got up and walked quickly over to the doctor. Charlie was still quite pale and a little wobbly from his blood donation and the doctor asked them to take a seat eyeing the young man with concern.

"My name is Doctor Hammell. Your son has been taken to recovery. He will be there for at least an hour. Once he comes out of the anesthesia we will remove the intubation tube and move him to a private room. He will sleep for a while partly because of the anesthesia but mostly due to the trauma that his body has been put through. The incision in his chest was not a clean cut. There was some tearing and I suspect that the instrument used was somewhat dull. We thoroughly irrigated the wound but I am very concerned about infection. The circumstances of his injuries and the un-sterile conditions have left him susceptible to a major infection. He is on intravenous antibiotics but he will need to be monitored closely so that if a sepsis occurs we can treat it quickly."

"Will he be all right? When he was… before he came here, his heart stopped."

Alan looked over at Charlie shocked by this news. He had not been told that and a twinge of real anger colored his words. "What are you talking about Charlie? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Doctor Hammell wanted to steer the conversation back to his patient and said, "Mr. Eppes. Your son lost a lot of blood and that coupled with the physical trauma caused his heart to momentarily stop. The emergency response personnel were able to bring his heart back to a normal rhythm very quickly. I do not anticipate any further issues in that regard. I am sure that you will want to stay with him until he wakes up. When he does please have the nursing staff come and get me right away. For right now, you can continue to wait here. It shouldn't be much longer than an hour."

Once Don had been moved to a room Alan and Charlie took up their silent vigil. Megan, David and Colby had all left but promised to check in the next day. Charlie had been silent since they had spoken to Doctor Hammell and Alan felt the tension. He decided that it was time to talk to his youngest about this.

"Charlie, I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I wasn't expecting to hear that your brother's heart had stopped. Charlie, that frightened me and…"

"Dad, stop. I'm not upset with you and I'm not trying to shut you out, it's just that I've been thinking about things…  
…about what happened down in that storeroom."

Charlie looked up at his father and held his gaze for a moment before speaking.

"When I walked into that room, I had every intention of killing that woman, Dad. I saw Don's gun sitting on a box near the door and I picked it up and pointed it right at her head."

Charlie got up out of the chair he had been sitting in next to his brother's bed and walked over to the window looking out at the dark night. The stars had come out and it looked peaceful out in the world. This gave him an odd sensation because his emotions were anything but peaceful.

"I have never felt the desire to kill anything… anyone before. I'm not sure how to reconcile those feelings."

"You saved your brother's life, Charlie. What ever happened this afternoon, the fact remains that Donnie is alive because of you. If she had died, no one would blame you, I wouldn't blame you, but she didn't die. Charlie, you didn't kill anyone."

Charlie turned and looked at his father not sure he could explain what he was feeling.

"I know that. When I fired that gun I was acting on pure instinct. There was no thought involved. She was about to kill Don and I aimed and fired. I didn't kill her but that doesn't negate the fact that I wanted to; that I intended to when I walked into that storeroom."

Alan got up and walked over to Charlie and held his shoulders not allowing him to turn away.

"Let me ask you a question, Charlie and I want you to tell me the truth. When you fired Don's gun, were you trying to kill that woman?"

Charlie looked stricken at what felt like an accusation. He knew that wasn't what his father was trying to do, but he couldn't help suddenly feeling like a child being reprimanded for doing something very wrong.

"I… no, I was trying to stop her." Charlie looked over at his brother lying in the hospital bed and when he continued Alan could hear him trying hard to keep the quiver out of his voice. "She was going to kill him. I didn't think; I just wanted to stop her from stabbing him. I aimed at her arm so she would drop the knife."

"Don't you see, Charlie? You have answered your own question. After what this woman did to you, to your brother, to all of those other men; you had every right to feel rage toward her, to want to have her dead. "

Charlie tried to pull away from his father, but Alan held him in place. "Charlie, when it came right down to it; you followed your heart. You said yourself that you acted on pure instinct, that there was no thought involved. That proves beyond any doubt that you do not have it in you to kill another human being. Do you really need to reconcile your feelings? Your rage made you want this woman dead, but your heart…  
…Charlie, your soul wouldn't let you cross that line. When you were put to the test you acted the only way that your true nature would allow."

Alan pulled Charlie into a strong embrace and held on. He knew his son was questioning his own morality and he hoped that he had made him see that his moral integrity remained untainted by the evil he had been exposed to.

Charlie didn't fight the embrace. He needed the contact and support. What his father had said made sense and it did lighten the heaviness that had descended on him. After a few moments he pulled away and nodded to his father before taking a seat next to his brother again.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Don opened his eyes slowly and looked around in mild confusion. He was obviously in a hospital so he must have been injured, probably on the job. At least for the moment that is all his sluggish mind would register.

He turned his head slightly to the right and saw his father sitting in a recliner reading a booklet entitled Post Sternotomy Wound Care.

'_What is that all about?'_

He turned his head to the left and saw Charlie sitting right next to him with his eyes closed. Don got the distinct impression that he wasn't asleep, just resting his eyes. He looked terrible. He had dark circles under his eyes and he seemed paler than he should be. Don noticed the bandage that was peeking out from under the collar of his shirt and felt a pang of concern and perhaps guilt.

A not so dull pain in his own chest flared as he tried to move and he brought his hand up to his chest. Charlie was startled by the movement because he had been resting his hand over his brother's and he opened his eyes and focused on Don's face.

Don felt the bandaging on his chest and his eyes opened wide as the memories from the afternoon came flooding back to him.

Charlie saw the shock register in his brother's face and stood quickly over him. "Don, it's ok; you're safe now."

Alan came over to his oldest son, placing a gentle hand on his brow. "Charlie's right, Donnie, it's over now. That woman is in custody; she'll never hurt anyone again."

"Custody? She's not…"

Don looked at Charlie. He thought he had heard a gun shot. He was sure that he had.

"No, she's not dead."

Don remembered the last thing he had said to his brother before he passed out. Had he reached him? He couldn't read the look in Charlie's eyes but there was something there, uncertainty, relief, shame. He didn't really know, but he knew they would need to talk about this.

"Charlie, stay with your brother. I'm going to go and get the doctor." Before Alan left the room he bent down and kissed Don's forehead. When he stood up again he looked as though he would start to cry but he only smiled warmly at his son and turned to leave.

Don watched as his father crossed the room and disappeared through the door. He knew that his family had come very close to losing him today and those emotions showed clearly in the older man's eyes. He looked back at Charlie who had taken a seat again in the chair next to the bed.

"Are you all right, Buddy?"

Charlie let out a harsh laugh and looked incredulously at Don. "Are you joking? Don, I'm not the one who was nearly butchered by that woman. I should be asking you that question."

Don didn't say anything for a moment as he studied his brother's features. Charlie was not looking him in the eye. He was avoiding the question and talking around it. He wasn't ok with any of this, how could he be?

"Charlie, you know what I mean. Are you all right?"

Charlie still wouldn't look Don in the eyes but tears began to well up. He sat back in his chair and looked away from his brother. Don reached out his hand and took Charlie's in his own. When Charlie spoke it was almost a whisper.

"I almost lost you today. It's what I have feared ever since this whole thing started. I've been angry for so long; ever since Jon; and now…  
…now I don't know what I'm feeling."

Don squeezed his brother's hand and Charlie finally turned to face him. His eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"I just need some time to come to terms with everything that happened; we both do."

"You're right Buddy. We both need some time." Don smiled at his younger brother and said, "Thank you."

Charlie looked quizzically at him. For a genius, his brother could be really thick sometimes.

"For saving my life. Charlie, my hero."

Don chuckled slightly at his quip and regretted it immediately as a hot pain burned his chest. He let go of Charlie's hand and brought both of his own up to the bandage on his chest just as Alan and the doctor both walked into the room.

The look of pain on Don's face brought both men over to the bed quickly. The doctor took a small flat pillow and lifting Don's hands he placed it against his chest.

"When you want to sit up, roll, cough or sneeze use this pillow. What you do is hug it to your chest to apply direct pressure over the wound to help with pain as the chest muscles strain."

Don laid his head back against the bed as he clutched the chest pillow to his torso. "Thanks doc."

The intensity of the pain eased up quickly and Don relaxed his grip on the chest pillow. The doctor removed the pillow and pulled the gown that Don had on up exposing the bandage over his chest wound. He examined the edges of the bandage before lifting the top edge of the bandaging material to examine the actual wound.

"If you had to rate your pain on a scale of one to ten with ten being unbearable, what would you rate your pain at right now?"

Don thought about that for a moment. At the moment while he wasn't trying to move the pain was there but bearable. "I'd have to say about a four or a five."

The doctor frowned slightly and checked the wound again. "Mr. Eppes, if the pain gets up around a six or seven I want you to tell the nursing staff, any higher than that and I want to be informed. For right now I will get you some mild pain medication. For the next twenty four hours, you need to remain flat on your back. I will come in and check the wound regularly. If you have no problems and the pain management works then you may be able to go home on Saturday. That is _if_ we have no complications."

Don liked the sound of going home but he didn't like the way the doctor said _'if we have no complications'_

"What kind of complications are you talking about?"

"My biggest concern at the moment is infection. You sustained your wound in less than sterile conditions and non-sterilized equipment was used. If you have a dramatic increase in pain that could be an indication that an infection has set in. So don't even think about being stoic. If you are in pain I want to know about it."

Don nodded his head in understanding and promised not to be a butt-headed male. After a few more minutes of being poked and prodded and thoroughly examined by this doctor Don had hit a wall where exhaustion was concerned. The pain medication that the doctor had promised was brought in by one of the nurses and injected directly into his IV.

Don was beyond tired, his body had been so thoroughly traumatized and coupled with the surgical repair of his injuries, the after effects of the anesthesia and now the pain medication for his incision he closed his eyes for a moment and before anyone realized it he had fallen asleep.

Dr. Hammell told Alan and Charlie that Don would probably sleep through the night and sent them home. It was passed visiting hours and he was still mildly concerned about Charlie. He had donated nearly two pints of blood which had saved his brother's life but that is enough blood to have put an enormous strain on the young mans own system. He instructed Alan to make sure that Charlie drank some orange juice and got a solid night's sleep.

They were surprised to see Colby standing out in the hallway when they left Don's room.

"Hey, Colby, what are you doing here at this hour?" Charlie asked.

His mind immediately jumped to all of the worst case possibilities; like Shelly had escaped custody and was out there waiting for a chance to finish Don off. Charlie suddenly had no desire to leave the hospital and wanted to stay right here with Don.

"How's Don doing?"

Alan stepped closer to move out of the way of a nurse pushing a cart down the hall.

"He's sleeping now, but the doctor thinks he might be able to go home on Saturday. Did you bring my car?"

Charlie who had been staring intently at Colby waiting for some sort of bad news relaxed a little. He had forgotten that Megan had driven their father and Larry to the hospital. He had taken his father's car that afternoon and the last time he had seen it; it was still parked outside of the math building at Cal Sci. Larry had left with Megan after they had received word that Don was coming out of recovery and being moved to a private room. He wanted to let the family have some time alone and promised to come by the hospital in the morning.

"Actually your car is back at your place. I'm here to give you gents a ride home."

Charlie wondered why he hadn't just brought Alan's car, but he supposed it didn't really matter. He did want to know what had happened with Shelly and once they gained the privacy of the elevator he turned to Colby with a stare that clearly stated 'Don't give me any BS.'

"What happened with Shelly Arbury?"

Colby shifted uncomfortably. He could see that Charlie wasn't going to back down without a satisfactory answer.

"She was treated at Pasadena General for the gunshot wounds. David's bullet went right through her hand. It broke three of the bones in it but the doctors figure that she will recover with full use because it was a clean through and through. She had to have surgery for the wound in her shoulder. No major arteries were hit but the bone was broken pretty badly, so they had to put a plate and some screws in."

Colby looked closely at Charlie to gauge his reaction to the news that he had seriously injured this woman. His dark eyes were usually so expressive but at that moment Colby couldn't read what was behind them. He wouldn't blame Charlie at all if he felt contented to hear of her injuries but that was not the type of man that Charlie Eppes was. He just hoped that the young professor didn't feel guilty about shooting her. He personally would have shot her in the head and taken her out of the equation all together if he had been in Charlie's position.

"When will she be moved from the hospital to the detention facility?"

Alan raised his eyebrows at Charlie's question. For a moment he sounded like Don and that disturbed him on a deep level. Charlie wasn't an agent, he was a math teacher. He was glad to see how close his sons had become since they started working together, but his feeling that Charlie's circumstances were being forced in a different direction that what he had chosen for himself reasserted itself. He was about to say something when the elevator opened to the hospital lobby.

The three men stepped out of the elevator and Colby glanced around to make certain that no one was close enough to hear their conversation.

"That won't be at least until tomorrow. She is recovering from the surgery but the doctor says that the surgery went well and she can be incarcerated as long as she is given pain medication regularly and the prison medical staff keeps an eye on the wounds."

As they approached the front doors of the lobby that led out to the circular drive of the hospital, Colby looked around and up at the parking structure to the left before he opened the door for the Eppes men. His state of alertness was not lost on Charlie and he wondered why Colby was acting more like a bodyguard than someone who just came by to give them a ride.

When they got back to the house Charlie noticed a dark sedan parked on the other side of the street with a man sitting in the driver's seat. He was sure that it was an agent but that didn't make sense. Colby's car was parked directly in front of the house so he obviously didn't need a ride. Shelly Arbury was under guard at Pasadena General, so why was there an agent watching the house?

Once inside Charlie decided to get to the bottom of this once and for all and told Colby to take a seat. Colby was a little taken aback at the command in the young man's voice. Charlie realized that perhaps this was not the best tactic to take with Colby. He still didn't know him as well as the other agents on Don's team and decided to try a different approach.

"Colby, I'm sorry but there is something going on and I want to know what it is."

Alan who had not noticed Colby's behavior and who was so glad to be home he had not seen the sedan parked across the street looked at Charlie as if he had finally lost it.

"Charlie, what on earth are you talking about?"

Charlie looked over at his father then back at Colby. "I'm talking about the fact that we have been escorted from the hospital to home by an agent who was clearly on alert. I saw you checking the parking garage and other roof tops around the front doors of the hospital before opening the door. There is an agent parked outside on the other side of the street who is obviously watching the house. If Shelly Arbury is in custody, then why all the security?"

Colby sighed and thought that Charlie Eppes was sometimes too smart for his own good.

"Look, Charlie this is all just precautionary. Arbury had an accomplice, her cousin. She disappeared yesterday and we don't know where she is. With everything that has happened we just don't want to take any chances."

"Oh my God, you mean there is another person out there who is after the FBI?"

The alarm in Alan's voice was nothing compared to the look on his face. He thought that they could finally start putting all of this behind them and now he is finding out that there is a second killer out there who has not been apprehended yet.

"Mr. Eppes, we don't know that there is anything to be concerned about just yet. This cousin was in Virginia this afternoon and the likelihood of her getting to LA this quickly is remote. We have agents checking the airports and train stations for her. It's just that we underestimated Shelly Arbury and we don't want to make that mistake with her cousin. A little overkill where security is concerned makes sense. We didn't tell you about this because frankly, you have enough to worry about at the moment."

Charlie felt dizzy and turned to sit down at the kitchen table but nearly missed the seat of the chair. Both Alan and Colby were at his side immediately.

"I'm fine, I just got a little dizzy."

Alan went to the refrigerator and poured him a large glass of orange juice. "Drink this, Charlie. The doctor said that you might feel this way until you recovered a little more from the blood loss."

Colby looked up at Alan clearly confused by that statement. He was not aware that Charlie had been injured this afternoon.

"Charlie donated a lot of blood for Don when they got to the hospital. The doctor said that they would have Don's blood type available if it is needed by tomorrow but at the time he was brought in the only source of blood for him was Charlie."

Charlie was feeling better after drinking nearly half the juice and turned a mutinous glare upon the agent. "When did you find out about this accomplice?"

"We only discovered her involvement this afternoon. She has been working as an archive clerk at Quantico and we are pretty sure that she is the one who got Shelly Arbury's file to her. In that file there was a list of names of the trainee's who testified about Shelly during an investigation that eventually got her fired."

Colby saw that Alan was still confused and added, "Shelly Arbury was the librarian at Quantico when Don was a trainee there. She was a bit loose with the men and dated several of the trainees, but she was aggressive and intimidating enough that after a while there were complaints about her. Don knew her because he was in the library so often. She asked him out but he said no. She bothered him enough that he stopped studying in the library and when the CO asked him about her he told them what he knew and showed them a note that she had written in one of his folders. Shortly after that, the investigation wrapped up and she was dismissed. Don's name was listed as one of the trainees who testified against her."

Alan sat down at the table too and shook his head. "You mean to tell me that all of these men were murdered because she was fired from a job? That's insane!"

"I would have to agree with you, sir, but she is obviously not right upstairs considering how she murdered these men. Please try not to worry about this cousin. We are just being extra cautious until she is caught. So far there is no evidence that this person had any connection to the actual murders themselves. At this point when she is arrested she will be charged with theft of government documents and accessory to murder. She must have known what her cousin was doing with the information that she provided, but so far we still believe that Arbury acted alone in the actual murders."

Alan took the now empty glass sitting on the table in front of Charlie and stood up to put it in the sink. He turned to Colby and said, "Thank you for bringing us home, Agent Granger. Will we need an escort when we go back tomorrow morning?"

Colby also got up from the table and said, "I'll be back at seven thirty to drive you over. Try to get some sleep and I'll see you both in the morning."

Colby laid a tentative hand on Charlie's shoulder. He really didn't want to be the one to lay this extra worry on the young man but there was no way to avoid Charlie's questions.

Charlie looked up at him and said, "Thanks Colby. We'll be ready when you get here… and thank you for telling us the truth."

After Colby left both Alan and Charlie made their way upstairs, reeling from the day's events. Neither man was anticipating that they would get any amount of sleep but they said good night to each other and quietly made their way to their bedrooms. As they had feared both Alan and Charlie lay awake turning the events of the last 12 hours over in their minds while sleep eluded them.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N – **I can not get my VCR to work so I couldn't go back and check on two details.  
Nadine is a DA I think. If that is inaccurate please don't jump on me. As I have said before _constructive_ comments are always welcome. Also I thought her last name was Hodges. Again I could be wrong but unfortunately I have no way to go back and check on it because my husband has the darned thing hooked up all weird and didn't leave instructions as to how to get the Tivo to turn off and the VCR to turn on. ARRGGGHHH!

Please enjoy.

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Charlie had been awakened by the same nightmare that he had been having since this whole thing began but it had morphed into much more gruesome images. Once he had awakened bathed in sweat he knew he would never be able to get back to sleep so he made his way downstairs quietly and sat on the couch to await the arrival of dawn. He dozed lightly but never really fell back into a restful sleep.

Alan's sleep had also disturbed by horrible images of both of his sons being murdered by this unknown accomplice that was still at large. He had never seen any of the actual crime scene photographs but after reading Charlie's account of his abduction the images that his mind created were far worse than any photographs could have proven.

He came downstairs around four thirty to find his younger son sitting in the dark in an almost trance like state. Neither of them felt the desire to discuss the events that had turned their lives upside down so they shared a quiet support of one another as Alan sat down next to Charlie and wrapped his arm around the young man's shoulders.

Charlie was so desperately tired that he leaned into his father's embrace and drifted off into a more restful sleep than he had in several days. Alan also felt a measure of comfort from the physical contact and dosed for a short time holding his son.

As the sun peeked in through the living room windows Alan roused Charlie and told him to go shower while he made coffee for them. Charlie was far to tired to even form a coherent objection in his mind and simply followed his father's instructions. By the time both men had showered and had a couple of cups of coffee they felt more awake and ready for the long day ahead of them.

Colby arrived back at the Eppes house by seven thirty as promised and was not surprised to find both Charlie and Alan up and sitting at the kitchen table. Neither of them looked as thought they had gotten much sleep and were sporting deep circles under their eyes. After grabbing a cup of coffee for himself, they all went out to his car to make the trip to the hospital. They exchanged the necessary pleasantries when Colby arrived but the rest of the time the Eppes men traveled with the agent it was in silence; each deep in their own thoughts.

As the three men walked down the hospital corridor approaching Don's room, Colby pulled his jacket aside to reveal the FBI badge at his waist to the agent posted at the door. The man stepped aside with a nod to his fellow agent and the three of them entered the room to find Don sitting up in bed pushing what might have been scrambled eggs around on his plate.

His face broke into a wide smile at the sight of his family that only faltered slightly when he caught sight of the man by the door as it closed behind the threesome.

"Hey Donnie, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Probably better than the two of you, Dad." Don said noting how tired they both looked. "Did you guys sleep at all?"

Charlie sat down next to Don's bed and put an affected smile on his face. "What exactly is that supposed to be?" he said, pointing to the pseudo-food in front of his brother.

Don looked woefully at the plate on the tray table as he picked up a slender slip of paper that looked like a menu. Certain items had been circled on it to indicate what he was being served.

"This says that its eggs and toast, but I have to tell ya, that doesn't look, smell or taste like any kind of eggs I've ever seen. The toast is soggy and the coffee…. Well don't even get me started on the coffee."

Colby looked at the plate and smiled. "Yeah, that looks just like the eggs we had in the military. Reconstituted from powder and everything a growing boy needs. I lived on this stuff in Kuwait."

"That explains a lot." Charlie quipped, which brought a laugh followed by a grimace of pain from Don.

Alan stepped over to his son and touched his forehead. He seemed a little warm but what concerned him was the flash of pain he saw in his eyes.

"What is it Donnie, you look like your in pain? Remember what the doctor said about not being stoic?"

"I'm fine, Dad. This incision hurts but I also haven't had any pain medication since last night so that doesn't surprise me. When the nurse comes in I'll ask for some. They want me to have food with it, but I'm not sure I will be able to comply. I didn't spend time in the military getting used to this kind of stuff."

"Hey Don, you want me to smuggle in some real food for ya?"

Before Don could answer Colby, Megan's voice came from the door. "I'm way ahead of you Granger."

She and David walked in. Megan had a bag in one hand and a tray with coffees in the other. David was holding a second tray of coffees. Don eyed the coffee that Megan was holding with pure pleasure in his eyes.

"Is that from 'The Nut House'?"

Megan smiled as she set the coffee and the bag down on the tray table. Colby removed the offending plate of powdered eggs to make room.

"I also brought Blueberry muffins and apple fritters. So what will it be; regular or Mocha?"

Don's eyes lit up and said "Reeves, I'm putting you in for a raise! Mocha please."

Megan handed him a cup of the hot beverage and asked if he wanted some Splenda.

"Don't need it with Nut House coffee."

Everyone took a cup of coffee and a pastry and they sat around quietly for a few minutes. Megan and David asked Don how he was feeling and gave him a brief run down on what had happened with Shelly Arbury's arrest. After only a few minutes David and Colby said goodbye and left when the nurse came in to check on her patient. She had brought some pain medication for Don and took his vital signs while Megan and the other Eppes men waited outside.

Nadine Hodges the DA came down the corridor to where Megan and the Eppes' were standing outside of Don's room.

"Hi, Nadine." Charlie said a little surprised to see her there so early.

"Hi, Charlie; how are you holding up?" Nadine had such a genuine note of concern in her voice that it momentarily put Charlie off his guard.

"I'm all right."

Megan looked at Alan and said, "Mr. Eppes, I know how difficult this has been for you but we need to take statements from both Charlie and Don this morning…"

Alan held up his hands and said, "Say no more. I know that the information is classified or whatever and to be honest I'm not sure I want to hear the details. The nightmares about what has happened are quite vivid enough at this point. "Alan looked at Charlie to see how that statement effected him and was relieved to see that his younger son had not taken his words to be an indication of disinterest.

"This could take awhile, Mr. Eppes. Agent Reeves will be interviewing Don and I'll talk to you Charlie." Nadine said looking at the young man.

"Well, I could go home and make something palatable for lunch, would that give you enough time?"

Megan turned to the agent guarding the door and waved him over before turning back to Mr. Eppes. "Agent Pentelli can drive you home and bring you back. It shouldn't be much more than two hours at best. But before you go there is something that we need to discuss with all of you."

As Megan said this, the nurse stepped out of the room with a bit of a frown on her face and walked down the hall. Megan, Nadine, Charlie and Alan went back into the room to see Don but Alan's mind was distracted by the look on the nurse's face when she had left.

"Is everything all right, son? That nurse didn't look too pleased when she left."

"I guess I have a little bit of a temperature, but don't worry about it. She said that it wasn't uncommon after surgery."

Don saw Nadine and his face split into a big smile. "Nadine! Are you on this thing?"

"Yes, I have been given the case. Megan and I need to take depositions from you and Charlie."

Don's smile faltered at that statement. The last thing in the world that he wanted to do was have to verbally relive the single most horrifying experience of his life to the woman that he still thought he might be able to find some common ground with. In order to distract himself from this unpleasant thought or possibly to stall for time he turned to Megan completely changing the subject; or so he thought.

"So, Megan would you like to tell me what the hell is going on. Why did my family have to be escorted in here with Colby and why is there an agent outside my door. I am pretty sure you told me earlier that Shelly Arbury is safely in custody."

Megan smiled as she shook her head; even when he was sick and in a hospital, Don Eppes missed very little. "Shelly Arbury is in custody, but it turns out she had an accomplice."

Don looked utterly shocked at this news. He frowned in concentration thinking back to the conversation he had with Shelly but she had not indicated that she had any help with these murders.

Nadine pulled out a file folder from her shoulder satchel and said, "Her cousin, a woman named Rebecca Cantor worked at Quantico as an archive clerk."

Suddenly Don remembered something. "I was wondering how she got a copy of that file."

Seeing the confused look on Megan and Nadine's faces he elaborated. "Shelly had a copy of her file from Quantico. She was ranting on about how she had proof that we all conspired against her to get her fired. There is no way for her to have gotten a copy of that file unless someone who worked there gave it to her."

Megan nodded. "We assumed as much especially given the fact that Rebecca Cantor disappeared yesterday afternoon. Her apartment was searched and it looks like she packed up in a hurry and left but hasn't been apprehended yet."

Nadine had pulled a chair over and took a seat next to Charlie who had automatically sat down in the chair right next to the bed. "We will be seeking the Death Penalty with this case. There is a possible problem however. I have gone over all of the files pertaining to these murders and we are woefully lacking in hard forensic evidence. She was very smart and left nothing behind."

Megan who remained standing also pulled out a file on Shelly Arbury. "Smart is definitely the word for it. On her entrance qualification scores to get the librarian job at Quantico she scored a 130 on the standard IQ test. That may not be genius level but it is well above average."

Nadine shifted in her chair and turned to look directly at Don so that he understood what she was about to explain. "In order for us to seek the death penalty we need a conviction. The fact is that all we have in the way of evidence is circumstantial. Her file from Quantico having a list of all of the victims and the fact that she used second hand medical equipment to commit these murders is very strong circumstantial evidence but they can be challenged. There is nothing that connects any of the equipment found to her old employer. We checked. The records were an absolute mess but there were no recorded thefts and nothing to indicate that inventory was missing at the time the business went under. There are no DNA traces, no finger prints, no video surveillance that can pin her to these crimes. The only thing that we have that is completely solid is your eye witness testimonies."

Charlie blanched at this statement. "Are you kidding me? I caught her in the act of trying to kill him! How is this not an open and shut case? What about David! He was there he saw what she was doing."

Nadine shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Charlie, when David entered that store room you were pointing a gun at Shelly Arbury's head. She can say, and has, that she was acting under duress. The point is; because of the circumstances David's account can be challenged by the defense as skewed. She is claiming that she found Don this way and was trying to help him not kill him."

"WHAT!"

Both Don and Charlie shouted this in unison. Don was rewarded with a sharp pain in his chest that took a moment for him to recover from.

"What about the fact that she was about to stab Don in the chest when we both shot her?"

Don looked up sharply at Charlie when he said that. "You shot her?"

Megan cleared her throat loudly. "Don, you can't ask him that at least not until he has given his statement to Nadine."

Don took a moment to register what she had said about not discussing particulars with Charlie because what _did_ immediately come to mind was that he was not giving his deposition to Nadine, Charlie was. It must be that Megan was going to interview him. He was so relieved by this news that he almost missed Nadine's next comment.

"Apparently she is claiming that she wasn't about to stab Don, she was trying to throw the knife at Charlie because she thought he was about to shoot her."

That brought Don back to full attention as both he and Charlie looked from Nadine to Megan with complete disbelief all over their faces. Megan understood how they felt.

"Look we all know that this is utter crap but the bottom line is, without your testimonies it is conceivable, however unlikely, that she could walk and she knows this."

Megan turned and looked at each of the Eppes men in turn. "We do not want to take any chances with Rebecca Cantor still on the loose. You will all need to go into protective custody."

This statement was met with a stunned silence from all of the Eppes men. It was unbelievable that this could be happening. Alan sat down and held his hands over his face. He thought that this nightmare was close to being over but now it looked as though it was only beginning. He looked up at Megan.

"What exactly does 'protective custody' mean?"

"You and Charlie will be taken to a safe house when you leave today. Don will join you when he is released from the hospital. Your lives will be put on hold. You won't be able to go back to your jobs or your home or have contact with other family members or friends after today; not until this is over."

The look on Alan's face nearly broke Megan's heart. This was always such an awful part of this job. The victims of these crimes were often times re-victimized by the slow moving wheels of the system.

"And how long can we expect to be in this situation?"

Nadine answered this question. "We will push for the quickest trial date we can but in reality it could be a few weeks to several months. The defense will want to have time to put together their case. I'm so sorry about this Mr. Eppes, but it just isn't worth the risk to any of you to let you go home."

Charlie was thinking hard and said, "What if you catch this Rebecca Cantor and lock her up. Then we should be all right."

Megan sighed deeply. "Unfortunately that's not true. The discount surgical supply house that Shelly worked at was called Med Link and was owned by one Bruno **Sborgia."**

**Don looked up at the ceiling and swore softly.**

"We did a background check on Bruno and yes he is related to Anthony Sborgia. They are second cousins. This does not constitute proof that Shelly has any mob contacts, but this is not a connection that we can ignore. We've lost witnesses while the perpetrator has been incarcerated. Even though phone calls are monitored it is still quite possible to arrange a hit from inside."

Alan got up and walked over to his sons. He took each one's hand and held on tightly. "We will get through this together as a family. If hiding is the only way to keep you safe then we will hide. I won't risk losing either of you boys again."

Megan stood up and opened the door to the hospital room and Agent Pentelli stepped in then she turned to Alan and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Pack up bags for you and Charlie and shut up the house. I've sent David to do the same thing for Don. I'm really sorry about this, sir."

The sadness in Alan's eyes was replaced with a strong resolve. "Don't be. Thank you for taking care of my family. We will be fine."

With that Alan said good bye to his sons, telling them that he would see them later, and walked out. Nadine stood up from her chair and leaned close to Don and whispered in his ear.

"I'll take it easy on him." Then she turned to Charlie. "Charlie, why don't we go down to the lounge at the other end of the hall?"

Charlie looked at Don who nodded slightly and then followed Nadine from the room leaving Megan and Don alone. She pulled out a tape recorder and her note book before sitting down in the chair that Charlie had vacated.

Don looked at her and said "Whose idea was it to have Nadine with Charlie instead of me?"

"Nadine was concerned that you might be uncomfortable talking about this with her. Of course you will eventually have to talk to her as well as testify in court, but for now, she thought you would be more comfortable with me."

"She was right, but I don't really want to…"

Don heaved a sigh. How many times had he been in Megan's position. He had always tried to empathize with the victims of crimes when he had to ask them to relive that crime. It was information that his team needed to gather the evidence necessary to catch the criminal. Now that he found himself in the position of being the victim, he realized that he never really understood what this meant for them.

He was going to have to tell Megan every detail of his experience, from being duped by the fake baby's cries to waking up bound like the rest of the murder victims to being cut open with a blunt blade. This was something that he could hardly bring himself to think about let alone describe for someone else, but he also knew that this had to be done.

Megan reached over and touched the back of Don's hand. "There is no rush Don, you know that. Just start from when you hung up with me at your apartment."

Don looked into Megan's eyes. He didn't see pity; he saw the concern for a friend. He pushed his emotions down deep where they couldn't hurt him and began to speak.

Charlie and Nadine took seats in the lounge at the end of the corridor and out of nowhere a large FBI agent appeared and took up a standing position several feet in front of them but between where they were seated and the entrance to the lounge. Charlie was about to ask where he came from but decided that it wasn't important.

He looked at Nadine as she pulled out a note pad and a tape recorder. Hadn't he just done this with Megan? It seemed like this nightmare would never end. Charlie sat back in the chair and allowed his head to drop back on the cushion and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments.

"I know how difficult this must be for you Charlie…" Charlie's head snapped up and he looked at Nadine.

"Do you? How on earth could you possibly know what I am feeling, or how hard this entire experience has been?"

Charlie didn't mean to sound petulant or aggressive. He was tired and agitated by the turn of events that were forcing his family into hiding like frightened mice.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to take this out on you."

"That's all right Charlie. You are right I can not know what it is you are feeling, I have never been faced with the personal horrors that you have where this case is involved, but believe me when I tell you I have seen some pretty horrific things over the years. Let's start with something a little less emotionally charged. Can you tell me how you figured out the number clues? We'll just take it slow and go from there."

By the time both Don and Charlie were finished with their interviews they were completely drained. Don had stopped several times during the worst portions of his account to get his feelings under control. He never shed a tear, but his hands closed into tight fists under the sheets as he fought for control. What came across very clearly to Megan wasn't the fear that the agent felt for himself, but the fear of what his death was going to do to his family, especially Charlie.

Nadine found Charlie's account to be incredibly precise with every detail quite vividly described. She actually had some difficulty maintaining her own professional decorum as she heard what had been done to Don. Like the interview that Charlie had had with Megan after Jon's death he spoke in a flat monotone voice that betrayed no emotion at all, but his expressive eyes told a story of fear and anguish as tears eventually began to fall.

The main thing that struck Nadine about Charlie's account was how he had charged down to that basement without regard to his own safety either physically or mentally. He could only think about getting to Don before it was too late. Even when Charlie shot the woman it wasn't with the intent to kill, but to stop her from killing his brother. Charlie had been honest with her about his desire to kill this woman and she had ended up saying almost the exact same thing to him that his father had.

Charlie remained in the lounge after he had finished with Nadine. She had a strong desire to wrap her arms around the young man and tell him everything would be fine, but that was far from the truth. She had seen many witnesses fold under the pressure of being ripped from their lives and thrown into protective custody. She didn't think that the Eppes men would succumb to the pressure but it was not going to be an easy road for any of them.

Megan and Nadine met outside of Don's room. Nadine peeked in through the window set in the door and saw him lying on the bed looking out the window. He didn't seem to be asleep and with his face turned away from the door she couldn't see into his eyes and she suddenly wanted to see into those eyes.

"How is he?"

Megan glanced back over her shoulder at the door. "Don is a strong man. I honestly don't know how he can take all of this so well. If it were me I… honestly I don't really know how I would cope. The thing that frightened him the most was what this was going to do to Charlie."

"I know what you mean. When Charlie went to that basement he was only thinking about getting to Don before it was too late. This woman is a stone cold killer who had already traumatized him, but none of that made any difference in the face of Don being in imminent danger."

"Don told me some things that will be of interest to you. Shelly Arbury has killed in the past. She bragged to Don about killing her parents before they could send her away to an institution for disturbed youths. Her background check revealed that her parents were killed in a house fire when she was nine years old. Her cousin Rebecca was also there and she was only seven. I need to get a hold of the actual reports about that fire and the autopsy reports on her parents, but that could go a long way to making your circumstantial case a lot less circumstantial."

"OK, given the intelligence of Shelly I can buy that she was capable of murder at age nine, but what about this cousin. You say she was seven when this fire happened. Do you think that she had something to do with the deaths of her aunt and uncle?"

"No I don't; Rebecca Cantor is only average intelligence. She was young and impressionable at seven and I am willing to bet that Shelly has used this fire and the deaths of her parents as an emotional hold over her cousin for years. She probably convinced her cousin that she is to blame for the fire and the subsequent deaths. That fits with Shelly's profile of being a controller. She even to Don that she will never let anyone else control the course of her life."

Megan looked past Nadine's shoulder and saw Charlie walking down the hall toward them. He looked utterly wiped out. He smiled slightly at both women then without a word he stepped past them and went into Don's room. The agent who had been standing in the lounge also came down the hall and with a nod to Megan took up a position outside the door.

Nadine looked at Megan with a fire in her eyes. "No matter what it takes, I will personally guarantee that this case sticks and that Shelly Arbury gets the death penalty."

The statement seemed so out of character for the normally soft spoken DA but then again Megan realized that she shared those sentiments whole heartedly. "I have to get back to the office; I'll give your office a call when I get the reports on the fire and the autopsies on Shelley's parents."

Nadine reached out and took Megan's hand and looked at the rather large agent standing sentry at the door. "Just protect them."

"You can count on that."

Megan turned to leave and Nadine stepped up to the door to Don's room. Charlie had pulled the recliner over next to the bed and stretched out on it right next to his brother. She couldn't really tell from this angle but it looked like they might be holding hands as they slept.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N –** Sorry for the slight delay folks. Real life kicked me around a bit and I just haven't had time to get to this until last night, and now the baby is ill so I have even more demands on my time, but I will do my very best to keep things moving along.  
Thanks for reading and reviewing. You guys are terrific!

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

Becky Cantor drove in a near trance. She had not stopped except to buy gas with cash and use the bathroom since she had fled her job and life back in Virginia. She kept mulling over everything that had happened in her tired mind. Every time she started to think that she should just go to the FBI and blow her cousin in to them, she felt her face flush with fear and shame.

She had set a deadly fire that killed Shelly's parents when they were kids. She should have been sent to Juvy at the very least, but Shelly had stood up for her and told them that the fire wasn't anyone's fault. She had warned Becky that she could be sent to prison for what she had done. There was that story about the red headed kid, Eric Smith, from New York who went to prison for killing Derrick Robie. Smith was only thirteen years old when he killed that little boy and he still went to prison. Shelly had pointed out these days age didn't make a difference. Shelly had protected her from that fate and had looked out for her ever since.

She had made it all the way down to San Marcos just north-east of San Antonio when her cell phone rang startling her from her thoughts. She fumbled in her purse for the phone while she tried to keep her car on the road. Her hands were a little shaky from exhaustion and stress.

"Hello?"

"Don't say anything, just listen."

"Shell?"

"Do you still have that package I sent you and told you to keep with you all the time?"

"Yeah, it's in my purse. Shell what's going on…"

"I mean it; don't say anything, just listen to me. I need a good lawyer and there are instructions for you to follow that will take care of that. I have been arrested and the public defender that has been assigned to me has a double digit IQ."

"You've been arrested? Oh God, Shell!"

"Listen now, I need you to come out to L.A. You know where I was staying right? Just answer with 'yes' or 'no'"

The tone of Shelly's voice had turned stony and cold which made Becky pull off to the side of the road and she nodded at the phone, forgetting in her fatigue that her cousin couldn't see the gesture.

"Do you know where to go?"

Becky snapped back to herself and quickly answered, "Yes."

"Good, now go there and look in the top left hand drawer of the dresser. Everything that you will need is there."

"You want me to come to LA?"

"I have always taken care of you and you know that. I need you to do this for me. Can I count on you; yes or no?"

There was a silence as Becky let the implications of what was happening sink in. Shelly had always taken care of her but she didn't want to go to jail. She didn't want to be a part of this any more. She wasn't even completely sure how she had become a part of it in the first place. All she did was to give Shelly her file from Quantico. Once that had happened things were quite until FBI agents started dieing. It took Becky a while to realize what Shelly was doing and with every communication, with every contact she had somehow managed to get pulled in deeper and deeper.

"Can I count on you?"

"Oh! Yeah, um, of course you can count on me, Shell."

"Good, now when we hang up you open that package then come out here to LA. I'll know by the end of the day if you are with me or not."

Something about that statement struck Becky as menacing. Shelley had threatened to expose her arson in the past when she didn't want to do something for Shelley, but Becky was sure that she would never actually tell anyone. At least she didn't think Shelly would, but with Shell, you could never be too sure about anything.

She closed the phone cutting off the connection and just sat on the side of the road breathing fast and shaking. What had happened to her blissfully uneventful life? She had a dull job working in a dull place but that suited her just fine. She didn't have the same appetite for intrigue that her cousin did.

Becky had enjoyed the games that they played as children because Shelly was so smart and made up the best games full of conspiracy theories and sexy characters. Growing up with Shelly was kind of like having your own full life animated theater to romp around in, but Shelly seemed to take the games too far sometimes. It was at those times that the excitement faded and an uneasy sense of fear began.

Becky remembered a time when she was ten years old and she and Shelly had gone out into the woods behind her parents property to check the homemade traps that Shelly had built while they were playing at being frontier trappers in a new and wild country.

The trap had worked and they found an injured Red Fox struggling to free itself from the noose its head was caught in. Shelly's eyes lit up and she immediately went into what Becky called 'play mode'. She turned to her younger cousin saying,

"We have caught ourselves a savage Indian. This one was probably responsible for the scalpings at Fort Myer. It's time to show these savages that what they give they get."

Shelly pulled out a large kitchen knife that she had hidden in her backpack and approached the fox. Becky was horrified by what she saw her cousin about to do and tried to pull her arm away from the injured animal. The sudden movement and the loud voices scared the fox even further and it lashed out and bit Shelly on the arm. She howled in pain and slashed viciously at the fox cutting it in several places before turning on her cousin.

"I wasn't actually going to cut the thing but I should have. That animal was probably rabid and you let it bite me on purpose! Before I die screaming and foaming at the mouth I swear I'll tell everyone what you have done! First you murder my parents then me!"

Becky backed away crying and confused by what had happened. When the fox attacked it had frightened her but Shelly's response to being bitten frightened her even more. She ran from the woods and almost got to the house before Shelly caught up to her. She stopped her from entering and spilling the beans to her mother about what had happened in the woods by explaining that they wouldn't know for a week whether or not she had contracted the deadly disease.

Shelly convinced Becky to keep quiet about the whole incident and sent her in to the bathroom to smuggle out bandages so that Shelly could dress the wound. She tortured Becky over the next week with dire forecasts of the type of death rabies held in store and made her sit and watch Old Yeller.

The night that they saw that movie Becky cried non-stop which her parents took to be a normal reaction since everyone cried when Old Yeller was shot. Shelly whispered to her in the dark that if she started acting like Old Yeller then it would be her responsibility to get her daddy's shotgun and shoot her before she went crazy and bit everyone in the family.

Becky flatly refused to ever go back into the woods with Shelly after this incident and has felt wary of her cousin ever since. Shelly down played the whole thing after a while and kept her play to more acceptable boundaries. She did not want to risk having her Aunt and Uncle coming to the same conclusions that her parents had about her mental stability.

It took Shelly nearly three months to get Becky to relax about the fox and start playing with her again. She knew that she had gone too far with that and vowed to be very careful in the future. Becky did resume playing with Shelly but she was always somewhat reserved about joining in and by the time she was twelve they had stopped playing pretend games all together.

After a childhood filled of Shelly's games, Becky was quite content to lead a boring and uneventful life until Shelly turned up again. Suddenly Becky would find herself sucked back into the chaos that seemed to define her cousin's existence.

Becky dug into her purse and pulled out a thick envelope with the words "Keep with you at all times" scrolled across the front. She opened it up and pulled out a letter but before reading it she looked at the other contents of the envelope. There was a passport, a driver's license, a social security card and other forms of identification in there all with her picture on them but the name Shirley Poulton.

There was also two thousand dollars in cash which made Becky's breath catch in her throat. It's not like Becky had never seen that much money before. As a matter of fact she came from a fairly well off family. Her parents were not rich but they were very comfortable. They would take the girls on vacations every year, usually to Costa Rica but they also had been to Disney World three times and even went to Europe for one summer vacation.

When Becky finished college and moved out on her own she kept in touch with her parents but they insisted that the girls make their own way in the world. This suited Becky just fine. She didn't want to have to rely on her parents all the time. There were only two occasions when Becky asked her parents for financial help and they had helped her but never without a long lecture about fiscal responsibility and the importance of saving and investing.

Becky had no problem trying to put money into a savings account but investing was far beyond her scope. She simply didn't have any idea how to go about learning how to invest her savings even if she had an appreciable amount of money to invest.

As Becky read the letter the color drained from her face. She slammed her fist against the steering wheel and began cussing in a manner that would have made the stoutest of truck drivers' blush. She turned the car off and got out pacing back and forth along the side of the dusty road.

'_How can she ask me to do this? How can she ask me to steal from my own parents?'_ Becky read the letter again and slumped against the side of the car. _'I can't do this. I can't!'_

Becky crumpled up the letter in her fist and threw it as hard as she could. It landed amongst the dry and dusty brush ten feet from the road and she sat there staring at the small wad of crumpled white paper as if the scrap of parchment was the object offending her. Shelly's voice echoed like a klaxon bell in her head.

"_I have always taken care of you and you know that. I need you to do this for me. Can I count on you; yes or no?"_

Becky banged her head against the side of the car a few times cursing her cousin for asking her to steal her parents life savings but after a few minutes she got up and retrieved the page from the side of the road and got back in her car vowing to herself that this would finally clear the slate between them.

* * *

When Alan arrived back at the hospital it was nearly one-thirty in the afternoon because he and Agent Pentelli had taken their bags to the safe house before coming back. He wondered if the boys had already eaten lunch as they approached the door to Don's room. Alan nodded to the agent standing guard over his boys and asked the man if he would like some lunch.

"Thank you Mr. Eppes, but I have to get back to the office. I think that they are both sleeping."

Alan peeked in through the window and saw that indeed both men were fast asleep and he wondered if he should disturb them, but he had brought sandwiches and if they were asleep then neither of them would have eaten since the pastries that Megan brought in this morning.

The agents seemed to be immersed in conversation so Alan pushed the door open and entered the room. As he drew closer to the bed he became very concerned. The first thing he noticed was that Don did not look at all peaceful. He had a fine sheen of sweat on his brow that was knit into a frown while he slumbered.

Alan reached over to his son to feel his forehead and found him to be too warm for his liking. He immediately pushed the call bell for a nurse and tried to rouse his son.

"Donnie, Donnie wake up son."

Charlie woke up with a start at the sound of alarm in his father's voice. He reached over to take Don's hand and when he moved his brother's arm Don let out a moan of pain. Alan pulled the covers down from Don's chest as well as the loosely fitting hospital gown. The skin around the edges of the bandage on Don's chest looked red and was warm to the touch.

"Donnie! Son wake up now. I need you to talk to me."

Alan patted Don's face as he spoke to him. Don opened his eyes and let out a groan.

"Whatsa'matter?"

"I was about to ask you that. You look like you are in pain and you're too warm."

The nurse had just walked in and heard Alan's comment. She moved in past Charlie and indicated with her body language that he should give her some room. Charlie got up and pulled the recliner away from the bed and stood back.

"How is the pain on a scale of one to ten Mr. Eppes?"

Don tried to sit up and took in a sharp breath as his chest seemed to blossom in fire.

"I'd say it's at least an eight" he gasped.

The nurse examined the bandage covering the incision on his chest and noted the red warm skin around the edges. She then pulled the top of the bandaging down and noted some yellowish drainage.

"It looks like you are developing an infection. I have brought some pain medication for you, but I want to take your temperature first."

Alan looked up at the nurse feeling his concern grow as she checked his pulse and frowned deeply. She took an electronic thermometer out of her pocket and put the tip in Don's ear and got a reading of 99.8.

"All right you are running a low grade fever so I am going to get you some Tylenol for that. I want you to say quiet and don't try to get up."

She noticed the bag with the sandwiches that Alan had brought and turned back to Don.

"What have you had to eat today?"

"Just some coffee and a blueberry muffin. I think that my father brought some lunch for us though."

"I will get you some jello and juice if you are hungry, but I don't want you to eat anything else until the doctor has had the opportunity to examine this incision."

Don looked quite disappointed by this order and as if in response his stomach growled loudly.

"I'm sorry, but if Dr. Hammell wants to debride the wound you will need to be put to sleep and you can't do that on a full stomach."

Alan stepped forward and asked, "What does that mean exactly; debride the wound?"

"It is basically cleaning the wound. Often times in a post operative infection there will be necrotic tissue formation." At Alan's look of confusion she elaborated. "Necrotic tissue is dead tissue. That would be surgically removed so that the healthy tissue around it can begin to heal properly. Now I'm not saying that this is the course of action that will be taken, but in case it is then it would be better if there was an empty stomach to work with."

She looked at Don with an apologetic smile.

"Your temperature isn't too high at the moment and the drainage doesn't look that bad. Dr. Hammell is in surgery today until at least five o'clock so he will not be able to see you until later. I will monitor your temperature and vital signs. The Tylenol should bring your temperature down and if Dr. Hammell thinks it's all right after examining you then you should be ok to have dinner."

She gave him the pain medication that she brought with her before excusing herself to go and get the Tylenol. When she came back she brought with her some jello and apple juice. It was wholly unappetizing to the young man but then again at this point his stomach had stopped growling and he wasn't particularly hungry anymore. That didn't stop his father from practically force feeding the proffered food on his son anyway.

Alan had also brought a tape of the game last night that he had set the VCR up to record. As the afternoon progressed they sat and watched the ballgame and talked very little. Don was becoming more tired as the day wore on and began to doze fitfully by the third inning.

Once Don fell into a deeper sleep Alan told Charlie about the 'safe house' which wasn't actually a house at all, but a hotel converted to low rent apartments on the lower east side. It was not particularly nice but it was in a fairly open area with no tall buildings around it.

Agent Pentelli had explained that without taller buildings near by it would be impossible for a sniper to take a shot at a witness being protected on the upper floors. This did very little to bolster Alan's confidence in the situation and he held back that tid-bit of information from Charlie feeling that his youngest had quite enough to worry about as it was.

The nurse came back in to check Don's temperature at three o'clock. The Tylenol had not touched it at all and it had actually gone up to 100.8. She hooked up a small bag to his IV and told Charlie and Alan that it was a different anti-biotic. She had spoken with Dr. Hammell between his scheduled surgeries and given him a complete update on his patient's condition. He planned on coming down to see Don as soon as he finished his last surgical patient.

Alan and Charlie kept a close watch over Don but they both had gotten precious little sleep themselves and dosed off around four in the afternoon. They were awakened abruptly by the sound of a loud beeping alarm that was going off on one of the machines next to the bed.

Alan glanced up at the screen that showed his son's heart rate and blood pressure. His heart rate was 103 and that had set off the alarms. Don was covered in sweat and had started tossing his head back and forth moaning incoherently.

Before Alan or Charlie could call for assistance the door flew open and two nurses came into the room quickly. Alan and Charlie stepped away from the bed to give the hospital personnel room to work. Don's temperature had spiked up to 104 and he was mumbling and panting.

The nurse that had been monitoring Don throughout the day called for some sort of medication and the other woman left the room in a hurry.

"Mr. Eppes!" she said looking at Alan. "Please come over here and hold his arms down for me."

Don had begun to flail his arms around and she wanted to check his incision. Alan moved swiftly to the bedside and took a hold of Don's wrists. He could feel the heat radiating off of his son and mentally kicked himself for falling asleep when he should have been watching him. The nurse pulled the gown covering Don right off of him and they could see that the bandaging covering his chest was wet and it was giving off an odor that Alan didn't think was very good.

As she peeled the wet bandaging away from his wound the smell that Alan had noticed a moment ago assaulted his senses with a putrid odor. The incision was enflamed and oozing a thick yellow puss that had soaked the bandaging material.

"I need to get the doctor to look at this right away. When he gets here I am going to have to ask you gentlemen to leave for a bit. There is a significant infection in this wound. He may need to be taken directly to the operating room."

The second nurse returned with a syringe and handed it to the nurse working with Don.

"This is a mild sedative that should calm him down. I can't give him anything stronger that could complicate the use of general anesthesia."

Charlie stepped forward now and looked alarmed by the prospect of them putting Don under in his condition.

"With a high fever can they put him under general? Isn't that dangerous?"

"That will be Dr. Hammell's call; I am only a nurse practitioner. Stay with him, keep his hands away from the wound; I'm going to go and get Dr. Hammell right now. He should be almost done with his last case and he will need to immediately asses this situation."

The sedative had begun its work and Don had stopped fighting his father's restraining hands and he opened his eyes slowly. They were glassy with fever and pain but they focused on his father.

"Dad?"

"It's all right Donnie. You need to relax right now."

"I tried Dad, I tried to get to him, but I was too late. I didn't save him. I'm so sorry, Dad. I didn't save him."

Charlie looked at his father and saw pain flash briefly inhis eyes. This smacked of a previous conversation and he knew that Don was referring to him. He moved over to the side of the bed where the nurse practitioner was standing only a moment ago and took his brother's face in his hands turning his head so that he could see Charlie.

"I'm all right Don. You found me and I'm ok. I'm right here and I won't leave."

It took Don a moment to focus on his brother's face. He reached up toward him and felt a white hot pain in his chest.

"Don, you have to lie still. Do you understand me?"

Don closed his eyes tight and reached up to Charlie grabbing his shirt front. He opened his eyes again and Charlie bent closer.

"You have to take care of Dad, Charlie. You have to promise me that you will be there for him when I'm gone."

Don's words were slurred and Charlie was not sure whether that was because of the sedative or the delirium.

"You're not going to die, Don. You will be just fine!"

Don's eyes seemed to clear for the briefest moment and a terrible sadness shown through.

"Charlie, please you have to promise me. No numbers, Charlie. Please promise me."

Don held his brother's shirt in a death grip and wouldn't let go. Tears sprang up in Charlie's eyes and he knew that he had to say something to calm his brother down. The sadness in his brother's eyes frightened him and the thought that Don could die with this infection crept along at the fringes of his mind.

"I promise Don, I won't hide in my numbers, but you have to promise too. You have to promise to hold on, to fight this. Don you can't give up. _You_ have to promise me that."

Don's hands went slack and he allowed his arms to drop to the bed. He was still looking into Charlie's eyes and saw a tear escape his brother's control.

"Promise… Never give up…"

The sedative took hold and Don's eyes slid closed and his breathing slowed to a more regular pace. Within fifteen minutes Dr. Hammell came charging into the room. He was still wearing scrubs and a surgical cap on his head.

He quickly examined Don and looked up at Alan and Charlie. "I was afraid of this. The antibiotics didn't stop the infection. I will take him up to the OR. I don't want to put him under general anesthesia in this condition so we will have to use a seditative and local anesthetics. I will remove any necrotic tissue and cleanse the wound. When he comes back down here he will be hooked up to a VAC bandaging system."

"What does that mean?" Alan asked very concerned.

"I will explain the entire thing when we come back; right now I want to get him up to the OR. This will probably take about an hour to ninety minutes. His fever is my biggest concern right now. The high fever developed very quickly and that is not a good sign. I want to stop this infection before he is hit with a system wide sepsis."

A smaller gurney had been wheeled into the room while the doctor was talking. Alan and Charlie stepped back out of the way and watched as Don was moved over and taken out of the room. Once he was gone it seemed eerily quiet all of the sudden. Charlie looked at his father's stricken features and remembered his brother's words.

"Dad, don't worry; Don is the strongest person I know. He will pull through this just fine."

Alan looked down at his son and felt an overwhelming pride wash over him. While Don's delirious conversation and exchanged promises with Charlie had disturbed him enormously, he was beyond happy to see that Charlie was not retreating into his safe world to avoid the pain and stress of what was happening to them. The fact that his youngest was comforting him and not the other way around sowed Alan how much Charlie had grown and changed over the last couple of years.

"You are absolutely right Charlie, Don is a very strong man; just like his brother."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Charlie and Alan paced nervously while Don was gone. They didn't know what operating room he had been taken to and this hospital had three different surgical lounges so they decided to wait in his room. The doctor had said that he would not be putting Don under general anesthesia so he would not need to spend time in recovery waking up and would be brought right back to this room.

After a time Alan sat down realizing that all of this pacing was only serving to agitate his already frayed nerves. He kept going over the delirious conversation between his boys right before Don was taken up to surgery. He knew that Don was not in his right mind when he made Charlie to promise not to fall into his numbers if he died. Alan's concern was the fact that this frame of mind that Don had while he is being operated on for the second time in as many days was one of preparing to die.

Nearly an hour had past since Don had been taken up to surgery when Megan came into the room.

"Have you had any word yet on Don?"

Charlie was pulled from his thoughts when she spoke and was startled to see her standing there just inside the door. He had not heard her come in and it took him a moment to process what she had just asked. Alan answered before Charlie had a chance to say anything.

"He's still up in surgery, but how did you know?"

Megan looked at the door then back at Mr. Eppes with raised eyebrows. "We do have an agent watching you who is to call in anything out of the ordinary. So can you fill me in on what happened?"

Charlie had found his voice and indicated that Megan should take a seat.

"Don spiked a high fever. The wound became infected and they are trying to surgically clean the incision. They need to stop this infection before it affects the rest of his body. If he becomes septic he could…"

Alan had had enough of this death talk from both of his sons wasn't going to hear anymore of it.

"Charlie, your brother is _not_ going to die! This infection was discovered early and the doctors are taking care of it now. Your brother needs us to be positive, so I don't want to hear anymore talk of dieing."

Charlie knew that his father was right and he leaned his head back against the wall. He felt the slightly tingling sensation that marked the onset of an anxiety attack but he focused his thoughts to stamp it out before it could take hold. David had told him that he could _'think'_ his way out of these attacks and he had been right. He simply needed to concentrate hard enough and maintain even breathing to keep it under control. Charlie was so focused on what he was doing that he was only peripherally aware that Megan and his father had continued talking.

"Have you found this accomplice yet?"

"Not yet. We have an all state wide alert out on her. Every FBI division and State police agency has her picture. Border control in Mexico and Canada know to look for her. There has been no activity with her credit cards, not even gas purchases. She must be paying in cash. Every airline in the major cities between Virginia and here have her picture and name but if she has decided to travel under an alias then they will need to rely on physically identifying her."

"So all she really needs to do is wear a disguise and she can move around the country undetected?"

"Essentially that could be accurate, but we have provided several different looks for her that she could easily adopt. Becky Cantor has no prior record. She is only in the system because she had to be fingerprinted to take the job at Quantico. We believe that she is running scared right now and when someone does that they make mistakes. We'll find her, sir, I promise you that."

Megan waited with the Eppes men for almost forty minutes before a nurse in scrubs came into the room.

"We are bringing Mr. Eppes back down from surgery. It will take us a few minutes to get him settled so I am going to have to ask all of you to go down to the lounge for a while. Someone will come and get you when it is all right for you to return."

Charlie sat up immediately and asked, "How is he doing? Is his fever gone? Were they able to deal with the infection? Is he awake?"

Charlie's questions were tumbling out of his mouth quicker than the nurse could even hear them let alone respond. She smiled at the young man and put her hand on his arm to quiet his litany of questions.

"Dr. Hammell will explain everything to you when we have Mr. Eppes settled."

Her voice was not unkind but it held a note of finality. They all moved to the door as she began to strip the bed that Don had occupied to put clean sheets on it.

Once in the lounge Charlie had taken to pacing again at such a frantic rate that it was making Megan a little dizzy. She wondered how he could have so much energy when he had gotten only a few hours of sleep over the last couple of days.

Luckily it was only about twenty minutes before Dr. Hammell came down to the lounge to talk with his patient's family. Alan and Charlie both shot up immediately when they saw Dr. Hammell approach and Agent Pentelli stood quietly and headed back to his post outside Don's door. Dr. Hammell sat down in front of the men and indicated that they should both take seats.

"Don is still sleeping from the strong sedatives used. His fever has come down a little but not nearly as much as I would like. There was a fair amount of necrotic tissue deep in the wound. That has all been removed but that doesn't magically make the infection disappear. I have applied a VAC closure system to help with the continuation of clearing the infection and closing this wound effectively."

Charlie was frowning at the Doctor. He had a rather extensive vocabulary but the doctor was using some terms that he was unfamiliar with.

"Can you explain this VAC system to us?"

"Certainly; it is important that you understand what it is because the equipment that your brother has been hooked up to might throw you at first glance. The **V**acuum **A**ssisted **C**losure system or VAC is based on the principle of using negative pressure. There is quite literally a machine that applies negative pressure or suction just like a vacuum to the wound. Foam has been placed over and in the wound and a tube inserted into the foam runs from the wound to a collection canister. The entire thing had been secured with non-porous tape and the suction on the wound is constant. Negative pressure diminishes the local amount of germs in the wound and increases the rate of formation of the granulation tissue. In post sternotomy disunions: the sternal bone is exposed and generally infected. Now in your brother's case the sternal bone had not been split open but the scapula or knife that was used to create the wound was used to carve a grove down the length of the bone. The purpose of doing this would be to create a guide for the sternal saw. This grove is where the infection rooted itself but it began in the tissues directly incised by the dirty instrument."

Charlie sat back in his chair looking a little queasy. Alan understood what the doctor had explained but some of the clinical terms skated over his comprehension although he understood their meaning by context. Charlie's discomfort stemmed from the fact that he had seen this violation of his brother's body and knew exactly what the doctor had been talking about because he could clearly visualize it. He would not get any sleep this night and he knew it.

The doctor led them into Don's room. Alan saw a large bandage covering the center of his son's chest. It had been secured with copious amounts of clear tape and there was a flexible rubber tube coming from the center of this bandage and snaking down his torso before dropping off the side of the bed. The tubing went through a small white and blue machine with a digital display on front stating the current negative pressure being applied and into a medium sized plastic canister set on the floor at the side of the bed.

The first thing that Charlie noticed was the wrist restraints tying his brother's arms to the side of the bed.

"These are coming off!" he said with force.

Charlie turned to face the doctor with anger in his eyes. Dr. Hammell remained calm and explained why restraints had been applied.

"Your brother needs to be restrained until the fever passes. If he awakens in a delusional state and tries to pull at the tubing connected to his chest he could seriously damage the healing wound."

Charlie stepped over to the bed and started to untie the restraints and spoke without turning to look at the doctor. "I am not going anywhere. I will stay with him and make sure he doesn't pull out any of these tubes or wires."

Alan was surprised by Charlie's suddenly forceful behavior. "Charlie, perhaps the doctor…"

"NO!" Charlie turned and faced his father with a look of intense conviction that the words in Alan's throat died away.

"Dad, he was tied down and tortured. He is feverish and if he wakes up and finds himself tied down again with this machine hooked up to his chest how do you think he will react? I will sit here and hold his hand all night if I have to, but he will **_not_** be tied down."

Dr. Hammell could see how determined Charlie was in his point of view but he felt he had to try and explain why the restraints were necessary.

"I understand your reservations about the use of restraints given the nature of how your brother was injured but you must understand that when Don wakes up from the effects of the sedative he will be confused and disoriented. He is a strong man and the restraints are for his protection."

Charlie had removed the restraint from Don's right wrist and moved around to the other side of the bed and began to untie his left wrist. The doctor tried a different approach.

"Mr. Eppes… Charlie, Don is in for a rough night. It is clear from looking at you that you are exhausted. What happens when you fall asleep and he wakes up? To your point, given what he has been through he will most likely panic when he realizes that he is hooked up to this apparatus."

Charlie took the restraints that had been tying Don down and walked up to Dr. Hammell.

"Don will probably panic but I have recently acquired a certain level of expertise when dealing with panic _and_ he trusts me. I will not fall asleep because my brother needs me." He handed the restraints to the doctor and said, "I will take care of him, Doctor."

Neither Alan nor Megan even attempted to try and change Charlie's mind about this. If Charlie was going to stay the night then so was Alan so he pulled up the recliner and told Charlie to wake him in three hours so that he could take a turn resting. Megan excused herself after telling Alan that she would return in the morning. She was not prepared to take Don's family away from him at this point in his recovery and decided to explain the safe house rules in the morning.

* * *

Shelly Arbury was roused by the guard at ten o'clock in the evening and told that her lawyer had arrived to speak with her. She rolled over and smiled to herself. She had begun to wonder if Becky had not followed the instructions in the letter she had given her. She got out of bed and reached for a sheet of paper that was covered in small handwriting. It was neat and legible but quite small so that the entire side of the page was covered. She folded it in three and carried it with her as she followed the guard to the interview room.

When Shelly entered the visiting booths she saw a neatly dressed middle-aged man sitting on the other side of one of the glass partitioned booths. He wore a pressed Armani suit with a black and red silk tie. The suit alone was probably worth more money than all of her aunt and uncle's life savings and she found herself to be very impressed with what she saw.

'_With this guy and the Eppes boys' dead this trial will be a walk in the park.'_

Shelly took a seat and waited for the guard to step back through the door to pick up the phone that would allow them to speak to each other. The Lawyer spoke first.

"My name is Marco Benadero. I have been asked to represent you by one of my preferred clients, a Mr. Anthony Sborgia. I am assuming that you are a friend of Mr. Sborgia."

"We have never actually met but I worked closely with his cousin Bruno. I called in a favor so that I could get decent legal representation. Before we discuss anything further I need to meet with either Mr. Sborgia or a close representative. Would you be able to arrange that for me?"

"I have a late meeting with Mr. Sborgia this evening after I finish here so I can inquire about your request. I have read your file and can see that there is a fairly strong circumstantial case against you. The circumstantial items can be addressed, but the issue lies with the three eye witness accounts. One of them could be viewed as suspect and I could possibly get that thrown out but as to the other two…"

"This will not be a problem Mr. Benadero. I would like you to concentrate on the circumstantial elements of this case. I have prepared a statement detailing my account of the events that have transpired and have left it with the guard. They should give that to you after we conclude our meeting."

Mr. Benadero looked at her appraisingly. This woman was very confident considering that the DA will most assuredly seek the death penalty for the crimes she committed… _'that she is **accused** of committing' _he mentally corrected himself. She had cold blue eyes that held no shred of fear. She sat tall in her seat and held herself with a fierce sense of dignity. Her entire countenance seemed to scream a challenge.

Anthony Sborgia would like this woman, but similar to his preferred client, she made him feel slightly unsettled. He would never let that feeling show because he knew all to well what happens when a predator smells fear. This woman, like Sborgia, was most definitely a predator. He may find working with this kind of woman distasteful but his two thousand dollar non refundable retainer had been paid and this was not a case that he could easily say no to, especially with Tony Sborgia insisting that he take it.

They spoke briefly about the case and her whereabouts during the out of state murders before Mr. Benadero took his leave. The page that Shelly had written was waiting for him at the sign-in desk sealed in a possessions envelope. He collected that and walked out to his BMW sitting in the parking lot. The ride to Sborgia's mansion would only take a half hour and he used that time to mentally compose himself and prepare to report what his impressions of this woman were to his _client_.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N – **First of all I would like to thank whom ever it was who nominated me and my completed stories for the Numb3rs Fan Fiction Awards. That was a pleasant e-mail to get.  
Patty had a question about the vacuum assisted closure system. Yes it is fairly common to use this system with large poorly healing or poorly vascularized wounds. The technology is available all across the country. There are some downsides to this technique so it is not used as a matter of course for all wounds.  
You were also wondering about the baby.  
Adam is over the conjunctivitis but is still suffering from croup and a head cold that is making it tough for him to eat because he can't breathe out of his nose very well. The biggest concern I had about him over the past week was due to the fact that last Tuesday evening while I was at work and Daddy was downstairs making dinner the 8yr. old and the 5 yr. old decided to give him a bath. The water they used was too hot and they scalded his private parts. I have had a long and serious discussion about what they are not allowed to do with the baby without Mommy or Daddy being present. All in all it has been a difficult week for the whole family. The scald is getting better and the other cold symptoms will abate with time.  
I am humbled by all of your support and I am honored that you thought well enough of my writing to nominate me.

Yours respectfully,  
Alice I

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Before Alan had a chance to drift off to sleep Charlie looked over at him and stared until his father looked up and met his eyes.

"What is it, son?"

"What was Don saying before he was taken up to the operating room about not getting to _him_ in time, about not saving _him_? Was he talking about me?"

Alan sighed and sat up in the recliner. He was ashamed of his words to Don the night Charlie had been abducted. Charlie saw this look of shame in his father's eyes and felt his heart drop a little.

"I said some things out of fear that I shouldn't have. When you and Agent O'Donnell were taken I blamed your brother for it. I told him that you didn't belong in his world; that he shouldn't choose this life for you. He was devastated but I was so full of fear and anger that I didn't see it, or I didn't want to. I told him to find you before it was too late and then I walked away from him without looking back."

Charlie went a white at these words. He knew that Don always felt responsible for any of the people under his command when things went wrong even if there was nothing at all he could do to prevent one of those people from coming to harm. Charlie also knew that Don felt that same thing ten fold where he was concerned. When he had been abducted, Charlie could only imagine the private hell that his brother put himself through trying to find him before he could be murdered. The fact that his father had said those things to Don would have only intensified those feelings in him.

"Why, Dad? Why would you say that to him? It wasn't his fault that we were kidnapped. I chose to work on this case. He tried to take me off of it but I wouldn't let him. This wasn't his fault!"

Tears of regret welled up in Alan's eyes and dropped down his face. "I know Charlie, but I was frightened. I thought that I had lost you forever. I lashed out at Don because he was there. I shouldn't have and I tried to apologize to him later but he had already decided that this entire thing was his fault. When he told me that he hadn't saved you I didn't understand. Then he told me what you had witnessed or rather heard; that you were awake while Agent O'Donnell was murdered. Your brother will never forgive himself for getting you involved with this case and my words in anger and fear only cemented that feeling for him."

Alan's voice grew husky at the end of his statement and he couldn't hold back the sob that escaped him. "I'm so sorry for what I said but, sometimes words spoken can never be taken back. I hurt your brother deeply and that is something I will regret for the rest of my life."

Charlie didn't know what to say to his father. Part of him wanted to comfort the man and part of him wanted to lash out in anger for hurting Don in a way that he was sure cut deep into his heart.

"Get some sleep while you can, Dad."

Charlie didn't mean to sound cold but he couldn't help it. He looked away from his father and stared pointedly at Don. He didn't want to see his father just then because he was afraid he might say something that he would regret. His father was right about one thing; sometimes words once spoken can never be taken back.

Dr. Hammell said that Don was in for a rough night and even with that admonishment Charlie was a little unprepared for how rough it actually was. By nine o'clock in the evening Don had awakened from the sedative and was delirious with a fever that had spiked back up to almost 104. He had been given a strong intravenous antibiotic as well as an anti-inflammatory agent in another small bag that the head nurse had attached to his IV.

The anti-inflammatory helped to bring the fever down to 102 but Don was still thrashing around in his delirium mumbling incoherently. Charlie held his hand tightly and spoke to him constantly to try and keep him calm.

Alan was unable to sleep at all with his son in the throws of this fever and held Don's other hand to prevent him from pulling at the tube running from the wound on his chest and was stunned by the strength in his son's grip after his body had been so traumatized. He had to maintain a tight hold on his son's sweaty hand and prayed silently that this would not last all night long. He wasn't sure he had the strength to maintain this physical vigil for hours on end.

Even Charlie started to wonder if he had made a poor choice in refusing to let them use restraints on his brother until Don began screaming the way he had when Shelly was cutting him.

"I never hurt you!...  
Please don't do this!...  
…If I die like this it will kill my family! They never hurt you...  
…I'm sorry Charlie."

The words were slurred and halting but both Alan and Charlie understood them. When Don said he was sorry, tears leaked out from beneath his closed eyes. Don kept apologizing for not keeping his promise and Charlie just kept reassuring him that he _had_ kept it and that it was over now.

The most difficult moment for Charlie was when Don opened his eyes and spoke to his mother as though she was standing right in front of him.

"Mom… I tried…  
God please forgive me. Mom I'm sorry, I didn't protect him…  
…I wasn't good enough…  
I never was…"

"Stop it Don! I'm safe. You saved me." Charlie let go of Don's hand and placed both of his hands on his brother's face turning his head so that he was looking directly at Charlie. "I'm right here, Don."

"Charlie?"

"I'm here, Don. I'm safe and so are you."

"I promised her… because she loved you best, I promised to take care of you for her."

Charlie felt a deep pain in his heart at these words. "She didn't love me best, Don. Don't say that."

"It's ok. I know you're special. I was just…  
…just Don; nothing special about me."

"Don't say that, Don! Mom loved you. Dad loves you, I love you. You **_are_** special! You're special to me!"

Don seemed to see his brother for the first time. His eyes cleared a little and he whispered, "I'm sorry Charlie, I tried."

His eyes closed then and he fell into a fitful sleep. Charlie felt tears sting his own eyes as he sat back down in the chair next to Don's bed. He took a hold of his brother's hand again and laid his head down on the edge of the bed thinking about the things Don had said. The logical side of his mind told him that Don is sick and delirious and couldn't be held accountable for anything he said, but his heart knew that if his brother had said these things then he felt them deep down inside.

'_Did Mom favor me? How can that be?'_

She was always saying how proud she was of Don. She was the one who suggested that Charlie make special cards for his brother when it was his birthday and then helped him to do it. She was always the one who told Charlie to forgive Don when he got angry about him tagging along. She had explained to Charlie hundreds of times that sometimes Don just needed a little space to be with his friends.

Charlie had often thought that his mother loved Don more because he was her normal boy. Don didn't require all this extra time and attention. He was always steady, ready and willing to help. He was the one that his mother depended on when his father was working long hours and couldn't be around to help with his high maintenance child. But Don was there, Don was always there.

Charlie clearly remembered his mother talking on the phone to Aunt Irene saying that sometimes Donnie was the glue that held this family together. She told her aunt that with Alan working such long hours to make extra money for Charlie's tutors while she filled the roles of housewife, and mother in between working on cases for her law firm, it was Don who was the rock that she leaned on.

Charlie sat quietly and wept for all of the years that he and Don had misunderstood each other. He wept for the lost time that he would never get back with his mother, and for the strength that he never seemed to have when it really mattered. His father had drifted off in the recliner on the other side of the bed and Charlie listened to his soft snores as he thought about everything that had happened over the last few weeks.

'_I promise you that I will be strong enough for all of us. I won't be scared anymore. This time you can lean on me.'_

With that conviction humming in his heart, Charlie too dropped off to sleep.

* * *

When the first pale rays of sun filtered through the window blinds Charlie opened his eyes. He heard his father still sleeping in the recliner at the other side of the bed. He suddenly realized that he had fallen asleep and had not been watching his brother. With a rush of adrenaline he sat up quickly and turned his head to look at Don and felt a sharp pain in his back and neck eliciting a soft groan from his lips. The position he had fallen asleep in had cramped his muscles and they protested forcefully to his movements.

Don lay peacefully sleeping, his right hand still in Charlie's. His hand felt cool to Charlie and he raised a sore arm to touch his brother's forehead. Relief washed over him as he realized that the fever had broken during the night.

Charlie sat up slowly working against his protesting muscles and scrubbed his hands over his face. What he wanted more than anything at that moment was a shower and a cup of hot coffee. There wasn't too much he could do about the shower but he sat there debating leaving for a few minutes to get some coffee when the morning nurse entered the room quietly.

"Good morning." she said, in a hushed tone not wanting to wake up her sleeping patient. She came over to the bed quietly and checked Don's pulse and temperature.

"He had a tough night didn't he?"

"For a while there yeah, he did. The fevers gone now; right?" Charlie looked hopefully at her.

"99.8, that is much better than yesterday to say the least. He will probably sleep most of the day today."

She bent down and inspected the collection container of the VAC system and jotted something down on a notepad that she had with her.

"The cafeteria is open if you want to get some coffee and something for breakfast."

Alan had roused as Charlie and the nurse spoke and sat up stretching. He looked at Don and also felt relief as he saw that he was finally resting peacefully.

"Coffee sounds good; do you want me to go?" Alan said looking at Charlie.

"That's all right, Dad, I'll go. I need to work out the kinks anyway."

Alan stood up and came around the bed before Charlie could leave and pulled him into an embrace right in front of the nurse that embarrassed him a little. She sensed the younger man's discomfort and having finished with her morning assessment quickly left the room.

"Dad, um… you can let go now."

Alan held his youngest at arms length and got a serious look in his eye. "I know that what I told you last night upset you. I'm sorry."

Charlie had mixed feelings about this and wasn't expecting his father to bring it up at that moment, but before his tired mind could formulate any kind of response his father continued talking.

"I'm very proud of you, Charlie. The way you stood up for your brother, refusing to let the staff use restraints, staying awake with him all night, watching over him. Don is very lucky to have you here looking out for him."

Charlie was stunned by this. He had never considered himself to be the one doing the protecting and watching out for the other. He ducked his head as a tide of emotions washed over him, most of which he didn't really understand.

"I'll go get some coffee for both of us."

He stepped away from his father and made it to the door before Alan could say anything else. When he stepped out into the hallway he saw that a different agent than last night was sitting in a chair a few feet from the door. This agent looked up and nodded to Charlie then asked where he was going.

"Um… I'm going down to the cafeteria to get some coffee, would you like some?"

The agent stood up and looked back at the room door. He was not sure what to do in this situation. He had been charged with the protection of the Eppes brothers but if Charlie went off to the cafeteria on his own he was not sure whether he should go with the younger man or remain at his post by Agent Eppes' door. He was saved from having to make that choice when he looked down the hall and saw Agent Reeves approaching with four coffee's in a carry case.

"Good morning, Charlie. How is Don this morning?"

Charlie turned around and smiled at the smell from the coffee cups that she held. She had gone to the Nut House again and that coffee was far superior to the hospitals.

"He had a rough night but he's sleeping now. You're here kind of early aren't you?"

Megan's smile faltered a little.

"Yes, well there is something that I need to discuss with you and your father."

She walked past Charlie and held the door to Don's room open for him. When Megan and Charlie walked into the room Alan got up and greeted her warmly. He filled her in briefly about the night and Don's fever as he took a cup of coffee. Once they had all taken seats Megan began to speak.

"We have a situation that needs to be addressed. Shelly Arbury had a late visitor last night; a Marco Benadero who is the personal council for Anthony Sborgia. Mr. Bernadero is the legal representation on record for Shelly Arbury as of ten o'clock last night. That is a mob connection that we simply can not ignore. I know that you want to stay here with Don but that isn't a good idea at this point. I'm going to need to take you both to the safe house where you will have to stay. You won't be able to come back to the hospital."

Alan paled visibly but Charlie looked at Megan with stony eyes.

"I am not just going to leave. Don needs us, he needs me. There is an agent outside the room, so what's the problem?"

Charlie hadn't realized that his voice had risen while he spoke and spun around so quickly when Don spoke that he experienced a brief moment of dizziness.

"You're too exposed here, Charlie. You and Dad will be safer if you go with Megan."

Don's voice was weak but it held a note of conviction that he hoped broached no argument.

"What about you? You are just as exposed here as we would be; worse, if something were to happen you couldn't defend yourself right now."

"Charlie, listen to me. The prosecution needs both of us to testify. If we are together we make an easier target. They could take care of the problem in one shot. With you at the safe house killing both of us is going to be a hell of a lot harder to do; probably impossible. That's why you have to go and stay there."

Don closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. He was exhausted and the talking had drained his strength. Charlie was at his side in an instant. He took a hold of Don's hand and waited for him to open his eyes again.

"I'm not leaving." he said, in a firm and quiet voice.

"Charlie, do the math. Going to the safe house is the right thing to do; it's the logical thing to do."

Charlie smiled a sad sort of smile. "It _is_ the logical thing to do; but it's not the _right_ thing to do; not for me. Don, we're in this together and I am not leaving you. You said you believed in me, well then believe me now. I'm staying here until we can leave and go to the safe house together. You are too weak to argue with me so don't even try."

Megan expected some resistance but she hadn't expected this quiet yet rock solid resolve that she was getting from Charlie.

"Look, Charlie, I'm really sorry but I'm going to half to insist. You don't have a choice in this."

Charlie stared at her for a moment, studying her face. "Am I under arrest, Agent Reeves?"

"Damn it, Charlie, you are just as stubborn as your brother!"

"Hey, I'm not the stubborn one; I'm the hard ass." Don said this and gave his father a weak smile.

Alan, however, found no humor at all in this situation. "You are both stubborn and this is not an argument I am willing to listen to any longer."

Alan turned to Charlie and fixed him with his best 'I'm the parent' piercing stare.

"Charles Edward Eppes, you will not put your life, nor the life of your brother at risk because you are being bull headed. If you are both here then the chances that these people will attempt to kill you both are extremely high. If we go to the safe house your brother becomes a less likely target. If your brother dies he isn't a target at all."

Charlie's jaw nearly hit the floor and Megan looked beyond shocked by what Mr. Eppes had just said. Don nodded in agreement however which confused the two of them even further.

"I guess I will just have to kick it then. That was some nasty infection after all."

Megan and Charlie looked on incredulously for another moment before they both understood what Alan and Don were suggesting.

"That doesn't change anything! Don, you will be lying here in this hospital bed with no one. That's not going to happen!"

Charlie was not happy with this arrangement at all.

"Look, Charlie, I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself. You need to go with Megan, so does Dad. If we put out a press release that I died of my injuries but assure the public that the FBI killer is safely behind bars then they won't come looking for me. It does mean that all of the attention will be on you. This is not something that I am overly happy about. I don't like putting either of you at risk like this but it's our only choice."

Don seemed to deflate a little as he tired, but he was determined to finish. He knew all to well how stubborn Charlie could be once he had made up his mind about something.

"I need you to be strong now, Charlie. Dad needs you, and I need you. I know that you don't want to do this but it has to be done. They can move me to another room; another floor even. If it is necessary they could even move me to another hospital under an alias. Once I am fit to leave the hospital I can be moved to the safe house with you."

Don could see Charlie mulling over the entire situation in his mind. A large part of him knew that Megan and Don were right, but he had promised himself that he would be there for Don no matter what happened.

"Please, Charlie, I can't get back on my feet if I am worried sick that we are both going to be assassinated at any moment."

Charlie locked eyes with Don and each tried to read the other.

Don wanted desperately for Charlie to be safe. If his brother lost his life because of this case he knew that he would not be able to go one living. His life, his job, his entire existence would be meaningless.

The promise that Charlie made to himself and his family last night floated to the surface of his mind.  
'_I promise you that I will be strong enough for all of us. I won't be scared anymore. This time you can lean on me.'  
_Perhaps being strong meant going against his gut instinct.

Don knew he had won this argument when Charlie lowered his gaze to the floor and his shoulders slumped. He sighed silently with relief because he now knew that his family would be kept safe.

Megan stood up and put her hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Don will be fine, Charlie, I promise you that. I'll give you all a few minutes of privacy."

She turned a quietly and left the room. Alan and Charlie stepped over to Don's bed and each took one of his hands. They didn't say anything to each other; they just allowed their love for one another to fill the silence between them. After a few minutes Don's eyes grew too heavy to keep open and he drifted off to sleep.

Charlie met his father's gaze and they both had tears on their cheeks. Alan bent down and kissed his oldest son on the forehead then stood up and walked out of the room leaving Charlie alone with his brother.

Charlie bent low over Don's slumbering form and whispered in his ear, "I love you."

Don didn't verbally respond but he squeezed Charlie's hand lightly before his hand went slack. Charlie laid his brother's hand down on the bed and turned to leave the room without looking back.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N- **Baby is doing well. The burn is gone and all is good. I have had some personal issues crop up but hopefully they are also resolved and I can get back to this story.  
We are getting closer to a resolution but I am having a little difficulty figuring out how to get what I'm going to have Charlie do come across as believable both in reality and for the character. I've almost got it worked out but you know I hate plot holes so give me a little time to make it gel.  
This is really more of a set up and exposition chapter than a real plot pusher but please enjoy it anyway,  
Alice

**Chapter Thirty**

Becky sat forward in her seat and watched as the plane taxied up to the gate with a wistful hope that the flight would somehow be delayed indefinitely so that she could remain in her seat until this whole nightmare was over.

She had done as her cousin had instructed and took a hell of a lot of money out of her parents saving fund. Back when they were teenagers Becky's father had a stroke and her mother had fallen to pieces over it. It seemed to the doctors that he would not live for long and her mother refused to leave the hospital. After a month in the hospital unable to move or communicate her father had slipped into a semi coma while her mother sat in a nearly catatonic state with her husband.

The home was left neglected, the bills unpaid, her father's car was repossessed after four months of non payment, and the only thing that snapped Becky's mother out of her non responsive behavior was the fact that foreclosure proceeding had begun on the house.

Six months after his stroke Thomas Cantor was released from the hospital and sent home to finish his recovery. He had intensive physical therapy to do every day and that consumed every fiber of his concentration so it was another four months before he discovered the seriousness of their situation when he intercepted a call from a collections agency.

His wife had taken care of getting the mortgage paid so that her husband would have a house to come home to but she let everything else slide. Tom contacted every credit card company that they had cards through and explained the situation, and then paid all outstanding balances in full. He bought a new car and set the payments up on automatic deduction from their savings account, and then he had a discussion with his daughter who was seventeen at the time about what to do if anything were ever to happen to him again.

"Becky, I am going to have to count on you to take care of things in the future if I become incapacitated again. I am giving you access to my accounts and CD's. I want you to take a course at City College so that you have the knowledge to run the finances if you need to. Your mother simply can not take over this function so I'm counting on you."

When Becky told Shelly she tried to get Becky to tell her what the passwords on the accounts were but Becky never revealed them. Shelly didn't want to push that issue so she stored that information away knowing that if she would ever get her hands on her aunt and uncle's money it would have to be at the right moment and that there would be no going back after that.

Becky had not cleaned out the account as Shelly had told her to. Becky knew that Shelly had no idea how much was in those accounts so she only took $350,000, leaving behind almost half a million. Her father had always been very good at investing and had earned a very tidy sum over the years on his investments.

Becky had sent off a letter to her parents telling them about the fire that she had set so long ago and how Shelly had kept that a secret. She told them that Shelly had gotten herself in a lot of trouble and had done some very bad things, but she felt that she had no choice but to help her because she was partially responsible for what her cousin had done. She apologized for everything that she had ever done wrong and hoped that they could someday forgive her. She said that she would never see them again, but that she loved them.

She knew that they wouldn't get the letter until after they came back from vacation in New Hampshire and by then this whole thing would be over with; at least for her. She would do this one last thing for Shelly then that would be it. No more Shelly, no more Becky, no more anything.

She got off the plane in an almost daze having not slept in days. Her hair was disheveled and she had dark circles under her eyes even though her face was pale and drawn. Becky didn't want to check a bag through luggage claim so she decided to wear several layers of clothes from the duffel bag she carried to make room for the money she had stolen from her parents making her look at least ten pounds heaver than she actually was.

Without intending to, she had effectively disguised herself so that when she passed through the security check point she was allowed through unmolested. She didn't look like her picture that had been disseminated to all of the airports and train stations and she wasn't acting nervous or suspicious. She looked like a weary traveler who was having an exceptionally bad day.

The security guard who checked her appearance against the wanted photographs actually felt a pang of pity for the woman who looked so forlorn and lost and asked her if she was all right or if he could get her a cab. She smiled slightly at the man and he noticed her red eyes that indicated that she had been crying and thanked him but said that she would be fine on her own.

She took her bag to the curb to hail a taxi and headed to Torrance where Shelly had rented an apartment. She had sent the address and a spare key to Becky shortly after she had arrived in California in case something went wrong and she needed to have her cousin come out to clean up her loose ends.

The ride from LAX was long with the morning traffic but Becky hardly noticed. She was lost in her own thoughts and the driver had to call her twice to get her attention once they had stopped in front of a two story brick apartment building called The Roman. Becky paid the man and got out but looked around before making her way up to the apartment.

She could tell that they were near a freeway and she saw a sign for a hospital nearby. The building itself had a closed circuit TV monitoring system and what looked like it was a remote system to open the main courtyard entry gate. She made her way to the front door and into the main foyer. The office was off to the left and a security guard there greeted her and asked her to sign a register with her name and what apartment she was going to be visiting.

Becky was slightly confused by this request but the guard explained that this was a gated community and that they took security of their tenants seriously. Becky shrugged and signed with the name of the alias that Shelly had provided her then moved into the corridor to the right of the front door that led down the length of the building. She saw a sign for stairs halfway down this hallway and went to them as Shelly's apartment was on the second floor.

Once inside her cousin's apartment, Becky sat down on the bed and just stared blankly around the room. It was a single room apartment with a bed on one side of the large room and a small kitchenette near the rear of the room. Just off the wall were the bed sat was a door leading to a bathroom.

Becky saw the dresser but she didn't want to read any instructions at the moment. What she wanted was to go to sleep and never wake up, but that wasn't an option; at least not yet. She took off her clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. She stood under the hot water for a long time allowing it to sooth her tight muscles. Once the water turned tepid she turned off the shower and got out feeling slightly more refreshed.

After getting dressed and taking all of the extra clothes and her personal belonging out of her duffel bag she stared down at the money in it. She wasn't entirely sure why Becky needed so much money. Even really good lawyers couldn't cost this much money. She took out fifty thousand dollars and set it aside. Something told her that she would need that as insurance. This left three hundred thousand dollars in the bag. Becky sighed and turned to the dresser and opened the top left drawer. There was an envelope in the top that held a small piece of paper and a little brass key. The paper said Union Station – Locker 457.

'_That's it; Union Station Locker 457? What the hell does that mean? Christ, Shell what the fuck do you want me to do?'_

Becky looked over at the bag of money on the bed. She figured that she was supposed to put the money in the locker but then what. Who was she supposed to give the key to? She turned the paper over and saw another note on the back.

Key – planter next to ticket booth – north end of the terminal.

'_Why the hell don't I just give this money to this damn lawyer of yours, Shell?'_

Becky was tired and frustrated by all of this cloak and dagger stuff. It was like Shelly was playing another one of her make-believe games that they used to play as kids, but this was no game. Becky had three hundred thousand dollars of her parent's retirement fund with her. She was too tired and forlorn to even think about why her cousin went to such dramatic lengths and pocketed the slip of paper and the key. She took the money that she had removed from the bag and emptied her purse putting it in the bottom. Then she put her wallet and other necessary personal items back in the purse on top of the money.

She looked around and found a small suitcase and dumped its contents out on the bed then put her clothes and belongings in the case. She didn't know why she was packing all of these things because in the back of her mind she hadn't really planned on needing them, but her basic survival instincts were overpowering her suicidal feelings at the moment.

She picked up the duffel and left the apartment to get a taxi to take her to Union Station. After she left the building and crossed the street to hail down a cab, she did not notice the two black sedans that pulled up near the side of the building nor the three federal agents that emerged from those vehicles and head toward the front office.

* * *

Charlie was very quiet on the ride from the hospital to the safe house. Megan glanced into the rear view mirror several times studying the young man's face. She could see that he wasn't brooding, but had a thoughtful look to his eyes as if he were trying to work something out and that worried her a little. Charlie had shown more stubborn fortitude than she would have thought of the professor and she was one of the few people who rarely underestimated the mathematician. She wasn't surprised when twenty minutes into the trip he started asking questions about the new threat that his family faced. 

"Tell me about Anthony Sborgia. How long has the Bureau been trying to pin something on him?"

"That's an open ended question Charlie. Sborgia, is the nephew by marriage of Alto DiBenedetto. His dealings have always been above board as far as any investigation has ever been concerned. The DiBenedetto family has been in business for a very long time and they know how to keep their illegal activities well hidden. We have been able to impair their supply lines somewhat but they have always been one or two steps ahead of any law enforcement agency that has targeted them."

The mention of Alto DiBenedetto was not lost on either of the Eppes men. The DiBenedetto Cartel was one of the west coast's most powerful families and it was well known that they controlled the bulk of the illegal trafficking in and out of the Los Angeles area.

"How is it that they are steps ahead of the LAPD, the FBI and the Justice Department?"

Megan sighed and shook her head. Charlie had that look. She knew it meant that he was not going to give up until he found what ever answer he was looking for.

"A few years ago, before I came to the LA office there was an internal investigation looking for a mole in the LAPD, the FBI or the DOJ. From what I understand that investigation netted zero solid results, but it did damage the careers of a few people. Accusations, even when un-provable, can play havoc on an officer's credibility. From what I understand at least two agents and several LAPD officers were either fired or quit as a result of that investigation. Look, the bottom line is that while it is obvious that the Cartel is trafficking in drugs, weapons, engaged in money laundering and the use of extortion there has never been any proof that would stand up in court. The income that is netted from these activities has always been very well hidden. The Justice Department has seized all of the business records on a number of occasions but the books have always balanced."

"How do they hide that kind of income? There is always a trail."

"Off shore accounts, dummy businesses, lots of very skilled accountants, corrupt officials in the government or legal system; I mean the list goes on Charlie. The Justice Department and the Bureau have been trying for years to nail the DiBenedetto family without success."

Charlie grew silent again and as Megan pulled onto a side street that Alan recognized as where the 'safe house' was located, Megan's cell phone rang startling him.

"Reeves…  
…Are you serious? OK let's get an agent over to Cal Sci to pull all the records on that."

Charlie looked up at the mention of Cal Sci and he and his father exchanged a confused look.

"…Good work Colby, I'm dropping off Mr. Eppes and Charlie right now. I'll meet you and David at the Roman in thirty minutes and we'll check it out."

Megan closed her phone as she pulled into the parking ramp underneath the apartment building.

"What's going on Megan? What happened at Cal Sci?"

Megan parked the car and turned in her seat to face Charlie and Mr. Eppes.

"It turns out that Shelly Arbury actually took a job at Cal Sci's maintenance department under the name Rebecca Cantor."

"That's her cousin isn't it?" Alan asked remembering that name from Colby.

"Yes and apparently she also rented an apartment under her cousin's name in Torrance."

Charlie sat dumfounded looking at Megan. "You mean that she has been at Cal Sci all along? She worked there?"

"We are sending an agent to get all of her files and paperwork from the campus office. We'll find out how she got hired and when. We'll take a look at her work schedule and see when she was there. If we can link her to your abduction as well as Don's by that schedule our case just got stronger. I promise that I will keep you informed as to what is going on but once here you have to stay."

Megan fixed Charlie with a piercing stare. "You do understand that, Charlie, don't you?"

Charlie just nodded.

"All right, now I want your cell phones. If you use them it is possible to track you through the GPS chip so you will have top turn them over. There is a phone in the apartment so you won't be completely cut off. There will be two agents at all times with you. One inside the apartment and one stationed as a security guard in the front office of the building. If you need to contact me call me on my cell. Any questions?"

Charlie looked over at his father to see what he had to say about all of this but his face was blank. He looked very tired all of the sudden and Charlie felt a twinge of concern for the older man.

"I need my laptop, and markers, paper and a black board would be nice."

Megan smiled at Charlie's request. She knew only too well how this forced confinement would affect the young man and had already made sure that all of those things were in the apartment. Alan however wasn't smiling. He was concerned that his youngest might fall into old patterns in order to deal with this stress.

"Charlie, I'm not sure that is such a good idea…"

"Dad, I'm not going to work on P vs NP if that's what you're concerned about but I _do_ need to work. You do crossword puzzles when you are stressed, I do math. Dad, we are going to be stuck here for God knows how long, I have to be able to work!"

Alan realized that Charlie was right and the look on his face when he had erased his board in the garage last week came back to haunt him. Everyone had their own manner of dealing with high stress situations and he knew that if Charlie were not allowed to immerse himself in his numbers during this he would probably go stark raving mad.

Megan got out of the car and waited for Charlie and Alan to stop staring at each other and get out them selves. She could see deep lines of worry creasing the older man's brow as he looked at his son.

When they entered the apartment on the top floor Charlie saw that not only was his laptop there so were two white boards who's ledges were filled with markers as well as several paper note pads and a box of pencils. Alan went straight to the kitchen and started to make some breakfast for the two of them as Megan spoke quietly with the agent who was stationed inside the apartment. Charlie made a bee line for his laptop and was booting up the screen when Megan said goodbye. She promised to call if they made any progress in their investigation or if they found Rebecca Cantor.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One**

Once Charlie had his laptop booted up he immediately began an internet search for the tools he required to accomplish his goal. It only took a few minutes to find the software he needed to download to change his IP address at will and re-route his internet activities through an overseas proxy server. The next bit of software was going to be trickier. He needed to download a program called 'Evidence Eliminator' but that required a payment and he didn't want the activity to show up on his credit card.

The software is proven to defeat the exact same forensic software used by the US Secret Service, FBI, Customs Department and Los Angeles Police Department. Charlie knew that this software worked because it had confounded him once when he was working with Don on a case where they wanted him to extract evidence from a suspect's hard drive after he had reformatted it.

The software created in the UK is far more through than a traditional data scrubber which leaves behind magnetic shadows that could be pieced together with either a predictive algorithm or using routine forensic analysis equipment such as EnCase or F.R.E.D. Unfortunately this particular suspect had invested in the 'Evidence Eliminator' software and Charlie was unable to recover anything from the computer's hard drive.

Charlie sat back in his chair and thought about this dilemma. He was going to be doing some serious and decidedly illegal hacking. He had no intention of leaving an evidence trail that would lead back to him but he needed the software in order to accomplish this. The only way to get the software was to pay for it on-line which required either a credit card or wire transfer both of which were traceable.

The smell of French toast made Charlie's stomach grumble bringing him out of his reverie. He tried to remember the last time he'd eaten a full meal and realized that it had been too long. For that matter it had been too long since he had slept for more than a couple of hours. Alan was placing plates of food on the small dinette table for himself Charlie and the agent who was sitting quietly near the window.

Alan looked up and was pleased to see Charlie looking hungrily at the food before turning to address the agent in the apartment.

"Agent Hodges? I have made French toast for you as well, so you might as well come and sit down at the table."

The man looked up at Alan and a slow smile spread across his face. Agent Reeves had told him that Alan had a tendency to cook when he was feeling stressed and that he should take advantage of some excellent meals while he was on duty.

"Thank you, Mr. Eppes that smells wonderful."

The three men ate in silence for a few minutes each lost in their own thoughts when the silence was broken by Agent Hodges' cell phone.

"Hodges!"

After a moment's pause he closed the phone and stood up from the table and headed over to the TV that was sitting against the wall of the living room area facing the dinette. He moved one of the white boards out of the way so that the Eppes men had a clear view of the television and he switched it on. The mid morning KNBC news report was airing on channel 4 and Ana Garcia the young idealistic investigative journalist turned anchor woman was reading the top headlines.

"Once again the FBI killer has claimed yet another victim. Special Agent Don Eppes who was abducted late Thursday afternoon by the FBI killer and rescued before he could be murdered, died early this morning from his injuries. When Agent Eppes was found his assailant was arrested and taken into custody. Assistant Director Walter Merrick stated that the city of Los Angeles has lost four extremely courageous men, but assures the people of LA that it is now over."

Both Alan and Charlie paled at the news broadcast even though they knew that it was false. Hearing of Don's death this way gave it a surreal feeling that sent a chill down both of their spines.

"Turn it off." Alan said quietly.

He had lost his appetite and stood up from the table with his half eaten plate of food. Charlie also felt smacked by the news broadcast. He had an overpowering need to call Megan and verify that the broadcast was actually a rouse and that his brother had not taken a turn for the worst after they left the hospital.

Agent Hodges seemed to sense this and said, "Agent Reeves thought that you would want to know that they will be moving your brother to Huntington Memorial later tonight. She wants to wait until after dark when there is less traffic in and out of the main section of the hospital. He will be admitted at Huntington under an assumed name."

What Agent Hodges didn't mention was the fact that the wait was more because Don's doctor did not feel that it was safe to move him yet. His fever had spiked up again after Alan and Charlie had left but only reached 101 rather than the dangerously high temperatures of the previous night.

Charlie felt completely drained. He had eaten most of his breakfast before the news cast but like his father had lost all interest in food afterward. He sat down on the couch for a few minutes ostensibly to try and figure out his computer program dilemma but before he realized what was happening he drifted off into a rather deep sleep. Alan seeing his son sitting slumped over in what looked like a terribly uncomfortable position went into one of the bedrooms and brought out a pillow and blanket. With the help of Agent Hodges they got his feet up and a pillow under his head. Alan draped the blanket carefully over Charlie then joined Agent Hodges at the table in the dinette.

"He hasn't had much sleep over the last several days and he stayed up all night long with his brother last night. It was bound to catch up with him sooner or later."

"I completely understand Mr. Eppes. I can't even imagine how difficult this whole thing has been for your family."

"Difficult would be an understatement, that's for sure. How well do you know Don?"

"Fairly well, sir; I have worked with him ever since he transferred here from Albuquerque, although we don't socialize outside of the office. He has a tendency to work late hours and I have to get home to my wife and kids so I'm usually out of the office much earlier than he is."

Alan raised his eyebrows at that.

"So having a family gets a man out of the office at a reasonable hour does it? Hmmm. There is one more reason to want grandchildren." Alan added wistfully.

Agent Hodges smiled at that. Don was his supervisor and they weren't close the way some of the other agents were to him, but he knew from office banter that both he and his brother were single much to their father's dismay. Somehow Agent Hodges couldn't picture his tough as nails boss standing at the changing table with a baby and that thought made him chuckle.

At Alan's quizzical look he just shook his head and said, "Oh I was just trying to picture my boss dealing with a poopy diaper."

Alan laughed at that because it is a sight he would dearly love to see himself.

"So how many kids do you have?"

"Two girls and a boy. Adam is four months old now and just a big as they come. He weighs nearly nineteen pounds already!"

"My goodness he is a big boy isn't he?"

Alan and Agent Hodges exchanged baby stories for a while as Charlie slept on oblivious to the world.

* * *

Megan met David and Colby outside of the Roman exactly thirty minutes from the time Colby had phoned her. Colby shook his head and mumbled under his breath.

"How does she do that?"

"Do what?"

"She said that she would meet us here in thirty minutes and it has been exactly thirty minutes, not twenty-seven, not thirty-five. Has she ever been late or even early for that matter?"

David just laughed at Colby. The oddest things would get him fired up. Now that David thought about it, he could never remember Megan ever being late for work. If she said that she would be somewhere at a given time, she was. He didn't know if he could time it down to the exact minute like Colby seems to but then again, it could be that she was that precise with her time.

They all got out and headed toward the front entrance to the apartment building. David and Colby noted the security monitors and could see that this was a gated community. That was good for them because they would have access to video surveillance as to when Shelly Arbury came and went.

Megan approached the office and the security guard sitting by the window. She showed him her badge and asked him about Rebecca Cantor's apartment.

"Miss Cantor had a visitor today. She had a key so after she signed in, I didn't stop her from going up to the apartment."

The guard showed them the register book and pointed to the name Shirley Poulton. Megan asked him to show them the apartment and he went into the back of the office to retrieve a key. Once they got up to the door and the guard unlocked it the agents had the guard step to the side and they drew their weapons.

They entered cautiously checking the corners. The room was empty with only a bathroom off to the side which David checked.

"All Clear, but someone had a shower very recently. There is still steam on the mirror in here."

Megan pulled out her phone and called in a forensics team to recover prints and DNA while Colby inspected the dresser and David went through the bed side table and kitchenette cupboards.

"Do the residents themselves have to sign in and out?" Megan asked the guard.

"No; only their guests."

Colby stepped over to the kitchen area and began looking through the drawers. "We are going to need to see the last month's worth of surveillance videos."

The guard took the hint and left the apartment quickly. Megan looked over the bed and found nothing of interest. "OK so let's assume for the moment that Rebecca Cantor has come to LA and is using the alias Shirley Poulton. We are going to need to get that information out to the airlines, train stations and the jail. She may try to visit her cousin."

Colby turned to Megan. "We should also check to see if she decides to pay a visit to Marco Benadero."

"Ok Colby you handle that angle and David get her alias out to the transportation and corrections facility. It shouldn't take long to confirm that the person who took a shower here was Rebecca Cantor using the Poulton alias."

* * *

Larry sat in his office with the lights off and the door closed thinking about Charlie and Alan. He had not seen the news broadcast but several of the other faculty had. The dean approached him at ten o'clock and asked how Charlie was doing and to assure him that if Professor Eppes needed to take some time off after the death of his brother that the school would make sure that his classes were covered until he was ready to come back.

The news that Don had died hit Larry like a freight train and he had immediately called Megan for confirmation of this dreadful news. Megan knew that this call was coming and was prepared for it, or at least she thought she was. By the time she hung up the phone with Larry she needed to step into one of the unoccupied conference rooms and collect herself.

She never imagined that she would have to lie to Larry and in the process hurt him so deeply. For the cover story of Don's death to be effective the people closest to him had to believe that he had actually died. Her personal attachment to the physicist made that call even harder but the safety of her people far outweighed any personal repercussions that she would need to face when this was over.

Larry's next question was naturally about Charlie and Alan. Megan explained that they were both under protective custody because it was believed that Shelly Arbury had managed to contract an assassin to kill Charlie. Larry desperately wanted to see his friend but he understood that it would be too dangerous for Charlie to try and arrange it.

Amita had actually seen the broadcast and spent some time just sitting in her apartment in a state of shock. She knew that Don had been kidnapped and that Charlie had saved him from this killer. The fact that Don had died despite everything that Charlie had done would devastate him. She called Megan as well and got the same response that Larry had.

Megan handled that call better than Larry's but only just because Amita began to cry over the phone. Megan was abhorrent to have to put these people through this and thought that these were the times that she found herself really hating her job. She had to forcefully remind herself that these steps were necessary to keep both Don and Charlie alive.

As Amita approached Larry's office she knew that he was inside even with the door closed. She knocked lightly before opening the door and stepping inside. The late morning sun was shining in through the window lighting up Larry's face as he gazed out into the campus grounds. He had faint streaks on his cheeks and seemed completely lost in thought for he didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Larry?"

Amita's voice was quiet and halting as if she were trying very hard to hold back a flood that threatened to engulf her in a sea of emotion. Larry slowly turned away from the window and focused on the woman standing there in front of him. His bottom lip began to quiver and in an instant Amita had dropped her purse and was kneeling in front of him. They embraced each other and their mutual grief broke free as they wept openly in each other's arms.

* * *

Charlie woke with a start and nearly fell off the couch. Agent Hodges got up quickly and came over to him.

"Easy now, professor."

"Wh… what time is it?"

"It's just past one o'clock. You have been asleep for a couple of hours and from what your father told me you could use a couple more."

Charlie sat up and scrubbed at his face. His body wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but he felt like there was something that he was supposed to be doing. His mind seemed so foggy at the moment and he looked around trying to orient himself. He didn't recognize the room he was in at first. The furniture was foreign and the nothing seemed to be in the right place.

"Where's dad?"

"Your father is in the bedroom on the right resting which is something that you should also be doing."

Charlie started to wake up a little and realized that he was at the safe house. He suddenly remembered what he was thinking about when he first sat down on the couch.

"Um… I can't sleep right now. I actually have to get some work done. Megan indicated that I could use the phone."

"The line is on a scrambler but you have to be careful who you call. Keep the conversations short and you can't tell anyone where you are. Um… also…"

Charlie remembered the news broadcast and knew what it was that the agent needed to say but was hesitant to.

"I know as far as anyone is concerned my brother is dead, right? I have to act like it so that no one knows the truth."

Agent Hodges nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, but this is for his protection. If there is a contract out on you two they won't go looking for him if everyone believes he is already dead."

Charlie needed to call Larry but this is an aspect of that call that he hadn't anticipated. He had to act like Don was dead and pull it off.

'_I promise you that I will be strong enough for all of us.'_

He took a deep breath and got up from the couch. Before he went to the phone he decided that a cup of coffee was definitely in order so he went to the kitchen to make a pot. While it was brewing he decided to take that shower that he had wanted this morning. The warm water eased the last of the weariness from his muscles and he spent some time contemplating what he was going to say to Larry.

After his shower he stood in the bathroom and toweled off his hair still thinking. The call had to be short and he needed to get Larry to take care of the software purchase for him. Larry could download it to a computer in the student union then e-mail the program as an attachment to his laptop. It should be untraceable or nearly untraceable once he set up an offshore proxy server.

He felt badly asking Larry to do this for him but it wasn't like Larry would be doing anything illegal. Charlie snorted out a harsh laugh; no the illegal stuff was all on his shoulders.

'_I promise you that I will be strong enough for all of us.'_

Charlie got dressed in clean clothes. His father was still sleeping in the second room which was good. He didn't want to deal with explanations as to his sudden flurry of activity on the computer. Once he hacked into the DOJ computers and gotten all of the files that their forensic accountants had on Saborgia he hoped he could move the bulk of the work over to the white boards.

He left the bedroom quietly and went back out to the kitchen to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee before going to the computer to set up the proxy server. He then went out to the net to the site where the software purchase needed to be made and copied a link of that address into an e-mail that he sent to Larry. Once that was done he picked up the phone and after promising Agent Hodges again that he would follow the rules, he took the phone and his coffee and went back into the bedroom for some privacy.

Charlie sat down on the bed and composed his thoughts before dialing Larry's office number. He assumed that he would be at Cal Sci getting his courses ready for the upcoming semester. The phone rang three times before his friend and mentor picked it up and said hello. Larry's voice sounded husky and weary which sent a feeling of guilt right through Charlie's heart.

"Larry?" he said in a quiet voice.

"Charles! Oh my God, how are you? I'm so sorry about Don. Are you all right?"

Larry had started stammering and his voice cracked when he had mentioned Don. It sounded as if he had been crying and Charlie felt even worse.

"Larry, I…  
…I can't talk about him right now."

"Of course, I'm sorry, I'm just so worried about you; so is Amita."

At the mention of Amita Charlie's heart began to race. He didn't want her involved in this in any way.

"Is she there?"

"She is here but not in the office at the moment. Do you want me to go and get her?"

"No, no Larry, please listen to me. I don't have much time, I have to keep this call short."

Larry stopped talking for a moment as the implications of what his young friend said sank in.

"Larry, I…  
…I need a favor."

"Of course, anything."

"No, you don't understand, this isn't just a little favor. Larry I have sent you an e-mail with a website address in it. I need you to go to that website and purchase the software they are selling then e-mail the program to my laptop. Larry, don't tell anyone about this, not even Amita, and use one of the computers in the student union."

"Charles, what's this about? What are you planning?"

Larry's tone was a mixture of confusion, concern and a hint of suspicion. Charlie hung his head but he had no choice.

"I…  
…Larry, I can't tell you anything more and please I'm begging you don't ask me. I don't want to get you involved in this but I don't know what else to do."

Charlie sighed deeply and continued in a strained voice.

"I'm…  
…this is something that I have to do, Larry. For Don…  
…and for me."

The slight sob that escaped him came from nowhere. Charlie was caught by surprise at the sudden surge of emotion that choked his throat. Larry was the best friend he ever had and he was asking him to help him break the law.

'_No he doesn't know anything and that is how it will remain. If I get caught then I alone will face the consequences.'_

That choked sob was interpreted by Larry completely differently, which actually served Charlie's purpose well.

"All right Charlie, I'll do it and I won't ask any questions. Please be safe, I… I don't think I could loose you too."

Now it was Larry's turn to hold back the emotion that threatened to escape his control. Charlie felt even more guilty but at the same time completely resolved to go through with his plan.

"Thank you Larry. I…  
…thank you."

Charlie had to end the call before it went too long or before he let something slip that he didn't want to.

"I have to go now. Tell Amita…"

Charlie was almost going to say that he loved her and after a moment he realized that if his plan failed and he was either caught and set to prison for hacking government documents or worse killed by Sborgia then he would never get the chance to tell her how he really felt.

"Tell her that I love her, Larry."

"I will, Charlie."

He hung up the phone and lay down on the bed for a minute to let the feelings that had nearly swallowed him pass. He had to remove all emotion and concentrate on his plan. If this had any hope of working he had to focus. He knew that if there was a contract out on their lives they would never be free of it. The government had never been able to pin anything solid on the mob family but they had never had the same kind of motivation and they didn't have Charlie.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N – **maurbill wrote - _Super excellent job and you certainly do deserve an award for this.  
_Well thank you very much maurbill, those are very kind words. Actually this particular story has not been nominated because it is unfinished but I just found out that the nomination process has been extended until March 8th. So what do you think, should I get my 'vogue on' and get this thing finished before then:-)

After googleing lots of pictures of Union Station I couldn't find any pictures that showed that there might be lockers in the place but for the purposes of this story they exist. I apologize to any purists who are reading and saying to themselves _"But Union Station doesn't have lockers"_ I do try where I can to make things correct and true to real life, but sometimes as authors we need to bend reality just a wee bit.

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Becky arrived at Union Station before ten in the morning and made her way directly to the locker number 457. It felt oddly like she was nine years old again, and was playing some sort of secret agent game with her cousin. She found herself looking around at all of the travelers sitting in the sectioned seats trying to imagine which of these people would visit the planter at the north end of the station to retrieve the key. After she opened the locker and deposited the duffel bag she turned toward the ticket booth at the end of the station.

'_The **north** end of the station silly.'_

Lack of sleep and stress were beginning to take a toll on the young woman. She was starting to feel slightly giddy. When she arrived at the large planter with a palm tree in it she sat down on the edge of the pot. She looked up at the tree trying to decide if it was a real palm tree like the ones lining the front of the station or some fake thing. The leaves were too high to touch and the bark felt rough but it wasn't plastic. Becky realized that she had no idea what the bark of a real palm tree felt like and she ran her hand along its surface trying to get a feel for it.

As she did this the small key accidentally dropped from her fingers and she almost bent to retrieve it when she realized what she had done. She looked down and could clearly see the key from her perch on the edge of the pot but it was close to the side and if she stood up she was sure that the key would not be visible.

She looked up and stared at the leaves at the top of the tree and decided that they were real. Then her gaze fell to the crowded station as she watched passengers come and go to the train platforms down at the far end. She noticed a roped off eating area with several square tables all donned with pristine white tablecloths.

She picked up her purse and the small suitcase and headed for one of those tables that was in clear view of the planter. After getting a large Mocha Latte and a cheese Danish she settled down to watch. If she was going to play this stupid game of Shell's then she wanted to know who was going to be retrieving the money that she had stolen from her parents.

* * *

Shelly Arbury got another visitor at eleven o'clock that morning. She now knew that the phones that were used to speak to visitors were not monitored or recorded. She had spoken to several of the other more hardened looking inmates who all seemed to sense a need to give her either a wide berth or respect. They saw in her the same thing that Marco Benadero did; the eyes of a predator.

What she learned was that those phones couldn't be monitored because the communication between an inmate and their lawyer was private and privileged information. Shelly smiled at that for she wasn't entirely sure how she would arrange a contract without getting caught. She would still need to be careful because a guard could casually overhear her end of the conversation as the walked up and down the line of prisoners sitting in the visiting booths.

The man who came to see her was a tall and dangerous looking character. He had deep set black eyes and short cropped jet black hair. He was sporting a days worth of dark stubble on his face and his tin lips were set in a hard straight line. She noted his strong tight muscular arms and broad shoulders. This man was Saborgia's muscle. He wasn't the assassin but the fact that he was sent here to retrieve information spoke of an agreement.

Shelly sat down and picked up the phone to speak to this man. He didn't initially pick up the phone on his end but instead sat studying her. She met his gaze with an unflinching and piercing stare.

'_So the local muscle is going to try and size me up?'_

Shelly put the phone down and after one more evil look at this man that showed no fear of any kind she started to stand up to leave. The man on the other side of the glass picked up the phone and a gleam of triumph shown in Shelly's eyes as she sat back down. She continued to look at this man for a moment before picking up the phone again.

The man didn't gat a chance to say anything before Shelly spoke in a quiet yet commanding tone.

"Union Station, Locker 457. Look for the key in the planter near the ticket booth at the north end of the station. Special Agent Don Eppes and Professor Charles Eppes have caused me a fair bit of trouble. They need to be spoken to about that."

The man finally spoke but his voice held a slight note of respect. This woman spoke and acted like she was the head of a powerful family like the one he worked for. She had no fear and broached no question to her instructions. She spoke as if they would be followed without question or reservation.

"Did you see the morning news?"

Shelly knew what the man was referring to. She had seen the broadcast about Agent Eppes' death, but she didn't buy it. This was a rouse to throw any would-be assassin off the trail.

"Don't believe everything you see on TV. The reward for hard work and investigation will be ample even for Tony's standards. Get it done."

With that Shelly hung up the phone and stood up from the visiting booth. She turned a walked away with the air of a general who had given orders to her troops. This was not lost on her visitor who also hung up the phone and walked away.

* * *

Becky was so tired by one in the afternoon that she was having some difficulty keeping her eyes open but she kept ordering Latte's and reading a book that she had purchased from the concession stand so that she could continue to watch for whom ever was going to visit the locker. She didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't the tall dangerous looking man who approached the plant stand and sat down on its edge. He glanced down and saw the key but rather than pick it up he turned his gaze up and stared directly at Becky locking eyes with her.

Becky was so taken aback by this that she didn't know what to do. This man had a deadly serious look in his eyes and she felt like a bucket of ice had dropped into her stomach. She wanted to look away but she couldn't tear her gaze from the man as he stood up and walked purposefully toward her.

Stark terror blossomed inside Becky's chest and she reached down for the suitcase intending on running as quickly as she could but it was too late for that. The man had reached the table that she occupied in only a few great strides and he placed a firm hand on her shoulder as he sat down at the table.

"I… I… I… was ju..just leaving if you wa… want this table" she squeaked out.

"What I want; is to know who you are and why you are watching the pick-up. You are not an agent that much is clear from the fear in your eyes and your wholly unprofessional manner. I have been watching you for the past forty minutes and it appears that you are alone, so who are you?"

"Wh… what? I… I don't know what you're talking about!"

The man's grip on her shoulder tightened painfully and she let out a little shriek.

"Quiet! This is what is going to happen little missy. You are going to go get the key and then go to that locker. You will then come back to this table with the money and sit down. If you deviate from what I have told you in any way I will kill you. Do you understand?"

Becky thought that she might faint from the sheer panic that coursed through her veins. The man's hand tightened a little more and she whimpered and nodded her head. He slowly let go of her shoulder and she stood on shaking legs. Her head was spinning as she made her way across the station to the planter and gratefully sank down on it to rest her head in her hands. Tears had begun to drop down her face but with a look from the tall man she reached down and retrieved the key.

She stood up again and began to make her way to the far end of the station near the train platforms where the lockers were and up to number 457. Her hands were shaking so badly and her vision was blurred by tears that she dropped the key twice while trying to fit it into the lock. She nervously glanced back and saw that the man had picked up her bags and had followed her down the length of the station and took a seat near by watching her.

She choked back a sob and tried once again to fit the key into the lock. A young man in jeans and a tee shirt happened to be sitting close to Becky and heard her sobbing. He got up and walked over to her.

"Can I help you with that, miss?" he asked politely. His face was full of concern for the terrified looking woman and he glanced around just in time to see a very tall and menacing looking man behind him.

"Move along boy, this is none of your concern." The man turned to Becky and said, "You had better hurry it up Stella, you know that Dad doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Becky turned back to the locker and managed to fit the key into the lock and turn it. The young man in the jeans started to move off not wanting to get embroiled in some sort of family fight but he looked at Becky.

Becky was even more terrified that this unknown man would hurt the boy who was trying to help her and improvised not wanting to get this Good Samaritan hurt on her account. She turned to the man and frowned.

"Jesus Christ Jared, he was just offering to help since I dropped the key. Get a grip." She turned back to the young man and said, "Don't mind my brother; he is always cranky when he doesn't get his midday coffee, but thank you for being so kind."

The locker door popped open and she smiled as warmly as she could. "See I've got it now. Thank you again, it's nice to know that chivalry isn't completely dead."

Becky retrieved the duffel bag and turned toward the large man holding her bags. She walked past him feeling like she would faint and made her way purposefully back toward the table with the large man following behind her. Before she reached the dining area he bent down and hissed in her ear.

"Keep moving, straight out to the front entrance then to the parking lot on the west side of the building."

Once they had gained the outside and the bright afternoon sun, Becky had a wild thought of dropping the duffel bag and making a run for it, but the tall man seemed to anticipate that move and suddenly she had his vice like grip on her shoulder again.

"We are headed for the navy blue Continental over there." he said, steering her toward the car with the hand on her shoulder.

A few feet from the car the man pulled out a remote control and pointed it at the vehicle unlocking it. He took the duffel bag from her hands and shoved her toward the car.

"Get in the back seat."

Becky was too frightened to think about disobeying and pulled open the rear door on the driver's side of the car. Once she was in the car he also got in and hit a button that automatically locked the doors. She had no escape from him now.

"What do you want with me?"

The man didn't answer but rather tossed her bags on the floor of the passenger side then proceeded to open the duffel bag.

"How much is in this bag?"

Becky didn't answer at first. She was still trying to piece together how she had ended up in this predicament.

"How much!"

She jumped at the sound of his voice and quickly said, "Three Hundred Thousand. Look, I was told to put the money in that locker. I don't know what it's for or who it's for. I just wanted to see who would pick it up. It's my parent's money; I had a right to know who was taking it."

The man shot her a startled look.

"Your parent's money?"

"Yes, my cousin got into trouble and is in jail. She had me steal it out of their retirement savings and bring it here. I think it's supposed to pay for some fancy lawyer."

"Hmmm, well let's go see your cousin about it shall we?"

"I can't go see her! They are looking for me too; it's all because of her! I just did this one last thing for her. You have the money now, you can let me go. I'm not a part of what ever she has gotten herself into. Please I don't want to be here."

The man put the money down and turned his head to look at the frightened woman in the back seat. He had sized up Shelly Arbury the moment he laid eyes on her and it was hard to believe that this woman was even remotely related. None-the-less it seems that her story fit with what he knew about the new 'client' but he wasn't taking any chances. If there was an FBI agent involved then he wanted to be certain that there were no screw ups.

"If you didn't want to be a part of this, then you should have left as soon as you dropped the cash."

He turned around in his seat and started the engine then drove off toward East LA. He was going to have to get her some fake ID in order to get her into the prison. If the Feds were looking for this woman she would need a new alias if she were going to travel with him.

* * *

Charlie decided to begin his work even before the e-mail from Larry came in. The program could be applied at any time to scrub his hard drive clean. The first order of business was to clean out all of the data that he needed to keep, assuming that he would still be a free man or even alive when this was over with. He began by attaching all of his work for his classes, two open FBI investigation data streams that he had been working on as well as his Cognitive Emergence Theory work to e-mails that he sent to his computer in his office at Cal Sci.

He sent all the files for a long term NSA project that he had been consulting on for the last six months along with an e-mail to Bob Thompkins. That message read:

_Hello Bob,  
As you may well know by now, my life has taken a very bad turn.  
I may even need to turn to you in the future. I hope that I can count on you if I need to.  
Attached you will find all of the data that I have compiled for the Orange Project.  
I do not believe that I will be able to finish the assignment. To continue this work you may  
want to investigate the abilities and background of a mathematician named Marshall Penfield.  
He has the skill set required to pick up where I left off. Marshall is not a particularly easy man  
to work with, but I have complete confidence that he will be able to bring this project to its completion.  
Charlie._

Once Charlie had cleaned out the hard drive on his laptop he began his work. He had positioned himself in the corner of the living area so that the only way either his father or Agent Hodges could see his computer screen would be to step behind him to look at what he was doing. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind before he began his hack into the Department of Justice's main computer systems.

Alan woke up just past two thirty that afternoon and was slightly dismayed to see his son pounding away furiously at his computer. He stepped over to Agent Hodges who sat reading a book at the dinette table.

"How long has he been up and working, Dan?"

Dan Hodges looked up into the concerned eyes of the older man and understood his fear. He had heard about the young mathematician's predilection for loosing himself in his equations when he was stressed out, but he didn't think that was the case this time.

"He woke up around one, made some coffee, took a shower and made a phone call. Then he started working and has been at it since."

Alan looked up sharply at Charlie when Dan told him what his son had been doing.

"He made a phone call? Is that allowed? Who did he contact?"

Dan stood up and poured a cup of coffee for Alan and brought it to him.

"Don't worry, he kept it short and he understood what he was allowed to say or not say. I think he called a friend. This entire thing has worn him down quite a bit and I think he just needed to hear a friendly voice. The call was less than five minutes and the phone _is_ on a scrambler."

"Hummm. I'm not sure I like this though. What could he be working on so furiously at a time like this?"

Charlie had heard his father get up and walk over to the agent. He kept tapping away on his computer but a portion of his mind followed the conversation. He couldn't afford to become so engrossed in his work that he was found out because he became oblivious to what was happening around him.

"Dad, if you must know, I called Larry. Agent Hodges is right; I needed to hear a friendly voice. He saw the news and…  
… well lets just say that he needed to hear my voice as much as I needed to hear his. As to what I could be working on so furiously at a time like this; I thought we had already covered that in the car."

Alan set his coffee on the table and walked over to the living room and took a seat on the couch.

"I'm sorry, Charlie; I guess I'm probably over reacting a little. I didn't realize that you had even heard me come into the room. I guess it's clear that you aren't…  
… well you know."

Charlie sighed and shook his head slightly. He needed to nip these kinds of questions in the bud right now.

"Look, Dad I need to work. This _is_ how I deal with stress. I'm worried about Don, and about us. There is always the possibility that we could still be in danger. Would you rather have me sitting in a corner waiting for the inevitable assassination attempt?"

"No, of course not Charlie, but I know that when you get too focused you have a tendency to keep it up until you are ready to drop from sheer exhaustion. I'm your father; I'm supposed to be worried about you."

"I promise that I will break for meals and sleep, but you also have to understand that if I get on a line of reasoning that I can't break from, I won't. I have to work out the equations when they are here." he said, tapping his temple. "If I don't, I'll loose them in the rush of numbers. I really need you to understand this, Dad."

Alan got up and approached Charlie who instinctively hit the minimize function on the application he was using before his father could inadvertently see the screen. Alan put a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"I _do_ understand. Have you eaten since you got up?"

Charlie's stomach growled at that thought and Alan just raised an eyebrow before returning to the kitchen to look for something to make for a late lunch for them.

Charlie dutifully ate the sandwich that Alan made for him and when he returned to the computer he saw that Larry had indeed sent him an e-mail with the program attached.

_Charles,  
The program is attached. I went to the bank and set up an account under  
a fake name then did a wire transfer from that account. Tomorrow I will  
go back to the bank and close the account. This e-mail is coming from a  
blank user account at the Net Café off campus so it should be completely untraceable.  
Larry._

Charlie smiled at the screen. Larry was smart and even though he obviously suspected that his friend was up to something that was less than above board, he still came through for him. Now nothing could be tied to Larry and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

He opened the program and began the install process so that all of his on-line key strokes would be deleted from the hard drive when he ran the program. It took almost half an hour to set up the program and get it fully installed on his laptop which started to make him feel somewhat antsy. Once the set up was complete he went back to the work he had started on trying to covertly hack into the DOJ mainframe.

* * *

Shelley was more than a little surprised to find that she had two visitors waiting to see her and astonished to see her cousin Becky with Saborgia's muscle. She approached the visiting booth cautiously and sat down. She was clearly shaken by seeing the woman and the man picked up the phone.

"She says that she is your cousin. I found her watching the pick up at Union Station. Is there something that you want to share?"

Shelly turned her gaze from her cousin's tortured features and stared hard at the man on the phone. She was most displeased to see that Becky had been crying and she suspected that the way she kept rubbing her left shoulder had something to do with this man.

"She is my cousin and she was only doing as she was told. She knows nothing, she's just a mule. I wanted to be sure that there were no problems with the transfer and instructed her to wait and tell me when the money had been collected. I will be speaking personally to Tony about your manhandling my cousin. I can see that you have hurt her and that does not sit well with me."

Shelly's tone held barely contained fury and she had pure murder in her eyes. Her countenance was so full of raw fury that the man actually felt a twinge of fear.

"Cool yer jets, I didn't hurt her. I held her shoulder a little tighter than I should have maybe but I didn't rough her up. I had to be sure that this wasn't a set up, that's my job."

"We'll see what your job is when Tony gets a piece of my mind; for right now let me talk to her."

The man held the phone over to Becky who didn't really want to take it but she did and looked directly at her cousin. She couldn't stop the tears that formed in her eyes at this point and simply allowed them to drop down her face.

"Oh baby, don't cry. I'm sorry that brute hurt you honey, but everything will be all right now. What name did you use to get in here to see me?"

Becky looked at the man sitting next to her and said, "Stella Tandy; he arranged the ID. Shell, what is this all about? No wait never mind, I don't want to know. I don't want to be a part of what ever is happening with you. I did this thing for you and now we're square. I never want to see you again Shell."

"Oh don't be like that, I promise everything will be just fine. I'll get out of here in a couple of months once the trial is over and we can do like we always planned. We'll head south and enjoy the surf and the sun for as long as we want. This is only a small setback; I'll take care of everything, just like I always have. You know I have always taken care of both of us. This bastard will pay for hurting you Beck; that I promise."

"You don't get it do you Shell? I don't want you to take care of anything any more. I don't want to be a part of your life anymore. You're wrong Shell; something about you has been wrong since we were kids. The wrongness in you used to be fun, and exciting, but now it scares me. I have to leave. Everything that was my life; my job, my home, my parents, even my name is gone and I can never go back. I gave up everything for you and now I don't have anything else to give."

Becky stood up from the chair that she was sitting in and handed the phone back to the tall man. She turned and walked out without saying another word.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N- **Unfortunately this story can not be nominated regardless of when it is completed. All nominations have to be stories completed by mid February. That's OK. You folks have been great with your reviews. I've seen the list of nominations and there are a lot of really good fics listed. I think it's pretty cool that any of my previous fics were nominated in the first place but I doubt they can stand up to the likes of Skewed, Koi Killer, Unquantifiable Variable and Go-Cart Charlie but it was nice to be nominated.  
Some of the computer stuff in this chapter may be slightly off. I checked with my sister who is a computer programmer, IS project manager and database guru so that it isn't too terribly inaccurate.

BIG OOPPSSS! Thanks Becky for pointing out the error on the last line. I meant to type di**s**k not what was there originally.

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

It took Charlie nearly two hours to hack into the DOJ mainframe. He had to be very careful not to set off any red flags. If his intrusion were discovered they would have first shut the system down to prevent any further infiltration and then would trace the hack. It would have been difficult to find him with the off shore proxy server but not impossible.

Once he found the files that he wanted he downloaded them to his hard drive. There was an IP address indicator showing that other files existed but not on this computer system. Charlie sighed when he saw the IP address because he recognized it.

He did not want to hack into the FBI data base. Somehow that seemed more wrong to him than what he was doing now. He worked with these people and they trusted him. He felt a little like he was betraying that trust, but the situation required drastic measures.

Hacking the FBI data base was a simple matter. He had been working inside this system long enough that he could easily navigate the firewalls, since he had helped to set up several of those security systems.

By the time he had retrieved all of the files on Saborgia and the DiBenedetto family financial records it was almost six o'clock in the evening. He moved all the files to disk and deleted his activity on the hard drive with the data scrubbing program.

"Charlie, you need to take a break. It's time to eat, son."

Charlie glanced up from his laptop at the sound of his name and looked into his father's worried eyes. He got the distinct impression that his father had been watching him throughout the afternoon and he felt a pang of anxiety course through his body. He had become so focused on his hacking that he had failed to notice the passage of time and wondered what else he had missed. Had either his father or the Agent Hodges seen what he was up to? Charlie looked over to the agent sitting on the couch and felt a stronger pang of fear. Agent Hodges wasn't there. There was another man occupying the sofa that he did not recognize.

"Good evening Professor Eppes. My name is Bill Peterson. You were so engrossed in your research when I arrived that we didn't get introduced."

"I'm sorry; I can get pretty focused when I'm working. When did you arrive Agent Peterson?"

"I got here about an hour ago. Your father said to just let you work, so that's what we did."

Charlie closed his laptop as nonchalantly as he could and extracted the disc from the drive on the side. He put the disc in his pocket as he got up and stretched. His father had made chicken and stuffing which smelled wonderful. Charlie's stomach rumbled as his appetite kicked in and he came around the makeshift work area he had set up to go out to the dinette.

"Has Megan called, Dad? Have they moved…?"

"No; to the best of my knowledge they haven't apprehended that woman's accomplice and I don't think they have moved your brother's body from the hospital morgue yet."

Alan looked pointedly at the agent also rising from his position as he cut Charlie off mid-sentence. Charlie shot a glance at the man and realized that he had almost spoken too freely. This man didn't know that Don was still alive.

"Um, Dad I need to change, can you show me where you put all of my stuff?"

Alan looked over at Agent Peterson as he set glasses down on the table.

"Agent, dinner is ready so help yourself. We'll be right back." Then turning to Charlie he said, "No matter how old you get, you still have a bit of boy in you. Come one, I have put everything away for you in the bedroom on the right."

Charlie and Alan excused themselves from the main room and both headed to the room to the right off the living room. Once they had entered and closed the door Alan whispered to Charlie to be quiet.

"Megan did call and for safety they are only telling a few key people about Don. She is not convinced that the investigation she told us about this morning was thorough enough. She is worried that there might still be an informant somewhere in the Bureau. One of the reasons that the FBI has had so much trouble getting a conviction against either Saborgia or DiBenedetto is because their witnesses keep winding up dead."

"Can we trust this man?"

"I'm sure we can, but the bottom line is the fewer people who know that your brother is still alive the safer he will be. Look I don't want Agent Peterson to get suspicious so I'm going back out. Don't forget to change."

Alan turned and walked out of the room and Charlie sat down on the bed thinking. If there was a mole in the FBI then none of them were safe. He had to work fast. This all had to come to an end soon, and if that meant that he had to break some laws then that is what it meant.

'_What am I thinking? I've already broken some laws. I hacked into government computer systems and stole government files, and this is just the beginning.'_

Charlie rubbed his hand over his face and scratched at the three days worth of stubble there. He would shave in the morning. He got up and changed out of his clothes into sweats and a loose fitting tee then deposited the disc into the pocket of the sweats before heading out to dinner.

* * *

Robert Thompkins had gotten Charlie's e-mail earlier in the day and it had disturbed him greatly. His office had been very busy and he had not been closely following the FBI murder investigation. Due to what Charlie had written he contacted Director Donaldson that evening and asked for as much information as he could without compromising their investigation.

"Director Thompkins, I am surprised to get a call from you. What is your interest in this case?"

"Charles Eppes also consults with the NSA as you may know. I received word from him that he is giving up one of the long term projects that he has been working on because… well the way he phrased it was that his life has taken a very bad turn. I understand that his brother is an agent and that he was killed by this serial murderer. Can you confirm that, sir?"

"Agent Eppes was abducted by this killer and gravely wounded before he was found. It was Dr. Eppes who decoded the messages left behind by the killer and found his brother before he could be killed by this woman. While we now have her behind bars it was discovered that she has ties with a very powerful mob family so we have had to put Dr. Eppes and his father into protective custody."

"You mean to tell me that the serial killer is a woman; isn't that somewhat unusual?"

"Yes it is unusual but not unheard of. My office released a statement this morning that Agent Eppes died due to complications from his injuries. I am sorry that you are losing a fine consultant because of this. We are doing everything in our power to make sure that he remains alive and safe. I am however concerned that he contacted you. He is supposed to be in hiding at the moment, and should not be contacting people outside of the Bureau."

"Not to worry Director Donaldson, Professor Eppes contacted me through a secured server. He used his top security clearance to contact me and send me the files and data that he has finished on the project. The e-mail would be untraceable so he hasn't put his location in any danger. I couldn't backtrack the packet from him even if I had my best people on it."

"That's good to hear, and I guess I can understand why he needed to contact you if he was working on an open project for the NSA. Unfortunately this thing could take some time to resolve. He could be under protective custody for weeks or months depending on how quickly we can get this thing to trial. The problem is that the killer has a mob lawyer and they are experts at getting trials delayed in order to give their hit men time to take out witnesses."

"I see. Director, please let me know if there is anything that my people can do to assist. I could easily justify the life of Dr. Eppes as a matter of national security and send my people in to help."

That offer was met with a stunned silence. After a moment Director Donaldson gathered his thoughts.

"Director Thompkins, I appreciate your willingness to help. As things stand right now we believe that the situation is contained but I will keep that option open. If I feel that your assistance would improve Dr. Eppes' safety I will contact you."

Bob Thompkins hung up the phone with Director Donaldson and sat looking at Charlie's e-mail message. Director Donaldson had not confirmed that Don Eppes had died. He said that the FBI had put out a press release that stated so. The more he thought about the conversation that he had just had with the LA director the more he was convinced that Don Eppes was indeed alive but hidden to protect him from a mob hit.

That would mean the Charlie would be the main focus of an assassin and that did not sit well at all with him. He was going to get to the bottom of this even if it meant going over a couple of heads and stepping on a few toes. He picked up the phone to dial a number then stopped. He heaved a sigh and set the phone back down before moving to his computer to compose a response to Charlie's e-mail.

* * *

After a rather quiet dinner Charlie got up to help wash up the dishes. He wanted to get back to his work but figured that he should at least put up the pretense of not being too obsessed. The last thing he needed was to have his father actively trying to pull him out of his work. He needed to get this done as quickly as he could.

Alan and Charlie had exchanged quick glances while they ate. The fact that the agent with them didn't know about Don made them both vaguely uneasy and they were both aware that he must be noticing their lack of open mourning.

Charlie stood at the sink washing the plates when one slipped out of his soapy fingers and crashed to the floor startling both his father and Agent Peterson. Charlie bent down to pick up the broken pieces and ignored the questions from both men asking if he was all right.

A thought occurred to him and he ran a wet hand over his face then stood up from the floor. He threw the broken pieces of china into the trash can with so much force that the can tipped over on its side before he turned abruptly and stalked out of the kitchen. He went into the bedroom on the right and slammed the door closed behind him.

Alan stood half in the kitchen and half into the common area of the apartment looking stunned and utterly dismayed for a moment when he suddenly realized what Charlie had done.

"He and his brother were finally beginning to mend the gap between them, and now…"

Agent Peterson picked up the trash can and placed it back under the sink.

"No need to explain. The stress of losing a brother is bound to make anyone a little off. How are you holding up, sir?"

Alan didn't turn to look at the man speaking to him. He kept his face turned toward the bedroom door.

"I'm a parent, Agent Peterson. I have more than just myself to think about and my son needs me now. Please excuse me."

Alan set the towel that he still had in his hands on the table and walked slowly to the bedroom door. He placed his hand on the door knob and sighed before opening it up and disappearing inside.

Charlie looked up at his father as he entered the room but said nothing. Alan stood quietly by the door listening for a few minutes before moving over to sit on the bed next to Charlie. He looked at his son closely before saying anything.

"Was that for my benefit as well?"

"The plate just slipped, honestly. I just figured that I should use that opportunity to give us a little credibility. How'd I do?"

"Not bad. You had me going for a moment."

"Dad can't Megan have agents come here who know what's going on? I don't think I can keep up this kind of act for long."

Charlie sounded genuinely stressed now and Alan put his arm around the younger man's shoulder.

"When she called and spoke to me this afternoon, she said that there would be times when we were going to be with agents who were in the dark about this. Dan will be back tomorrow and he is in the loop. We just need to keep to ourselves when there is someone here who is in the dark. I know that it's not easy, none of this is. We have been taken out of our home and deposited in this small apartment. We can't leave or even just go outside for a walk. Sooner or later the cabin fever will set in and then the stress will get worse. We have to be strong for each other Charlie and for Don."

Charlie hung his head and a real sob escaped him. "I need to know how Don is. I need to know that he is all right. Can't we call Megan?"

Alan hugged Charlie and felt his heart ache for his son when he felt the slight tremble in the young man's body. He stroked his soft curls and whispered to him.

"I miss him too, but I know that he is safe and that is all that matters. Megan would have told us if anything had happened. Just have faith in that and in her."

"I do, Dad." Charlie looked up at his father and heaved a sigh as he wiped at his face. A real tear had dropped down his cheek but somehow it didn't bother him that his father had seen that.

"Go back out there. I will come out in a few minutes all right?"

Alan nodded and stood up. He understood how Charlie was feeling. Keeping up the charade that one of his son's had been murdered had been difficult on him. He wished that he could lose himself the way his youngest could in his numbers and equations. At least while Charlie was working furiously he had an escape from the nightmare that their lives had become and Alan found himself envying him a little for that ability.

He stepped out into the living area and glanced over at his son's work area. Agent Peterson had finished cleaning up the dinner dishes and walked over to Alan with a cup of coffee.

"How is he?"

"Not as bad as I thought. The real impact hasn't hit him yet and when it does…"

Alan looked over again at the work area. The white boards had not been used yet and he walked over and touched the surface of one of them.

"…When it does these boards will fill up with numbers and symbols, the pads of note paper will be written in until there is no room left, he'll stop sleeping and eating and I will have to try and keep him grounded or I could lose both of my children."

Agent Peterson seemed to accept this answer from the older man and Alan breathed a sigh of relief. He was not sure that he could keep up this act for long either. He hoped that he had given enough reason for the agents in the dark to realize that he needed to keep it together to take care of Charlie and hopefully now no one would question him about how he was dealing with the death of his oldest.

Ten minutes passed and Alan had taken to doing a crossword puzzle while Agent Peterson took a seat at the dinette table. Charlie came out of the bedroom and headed straight for his laptop and began to work again. Agent Peterson looked up at the young mathematician and shook his head before returning to his paperwork. He was supposed to report everything that happed in the apartment during his shift and he was currently writing a report about Charlie's outburst for the next agent who would relieve him.

Once the computer booted up again it chimed at Charlie indicating that he had received an e-mail. He opened his editor and saw that Bob Thompkins had replied to his earlier message. When he opened up the reply and read it a small smile crossed his lips but he quickly evened out his features. He was supposed to be mourning the loss of his older brother after all.

_Charlie,  
__I will check out Penfield, but understand that I do not  
__want to lose you on this project. It is not as time  
sensitive as other projects and can be delayed  
for a while. I will only replace you on the project if  
I am given no other choice.  
__I spoke with Director Donaldson and he told me  
what he was **allowed **to about the situation.  
I have offered to classify your safety as a matter  
of National Security so that my people can get in to help.  
The offer is being considered.  
__Can you count on me? We have known each other  
for four years now and you shouldn't even need  
to ask. I can do nothing for you officially unless invited  
by the FBI but unofficially I will help in any way  
that I can.  
Do you know who can be trusted unequivocally at  
the Bureau? For now e-mail will work but I want to  
__have a way for you to get a message to me quickly  
and covertly. All I need is a name;  
I'll take care of the rest.  
__I have an idea as to what you might be doing.  
Be careful Charlie. As much as I don't want to lose  
my best consultant, even more so; I don't want to  
lose a friend.  
Bob_

Charlie hit the reply button and typed a single name; "David Sinclair" then sent it. He deleted the e-mail then put the disk in the drive and started to read the files he had stolen.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N – WARNING: **Ok not that there hasn't been enough gore already in this little tale but Don dreams about what Shelly did to him. It is described in detail and you may want to be aware of that. This is the visual version of what Charlie heard being done to Jon back in chapter twelve. I felt that it was necessary to set up what will be happening with Don over the course of the rest of the story.

**Chapter  
Thirty-Four**

A slight dark haired, olive skinned man in a janitor's jumpsuit pushed a bucket down the hallway of the hospital unit. He stopped at the lavatory and put up the yellow sign warning in two languages that the floor was wet as he pulled the mop from the bucket and began to wipe down the floor. Agent Hawkins sat outside Don's room on a small stool and gave the man a close look registering his features before going back to writing on a report pad on his lap.

Once the janitor had finished this bathroom he stowed the mop in the bucket and proceeded down the hall toward the agent sitting on the stool. As the man passed the room that was being guarded he gave the agent and the room a curious look, noting the room number before moving on.

Agent Hawkins once again noted the height, weight, skin tone, hair and eye color of the janitor. The tag on the man's jumpsuit read Carlos Rameriz. The picture was faded and the tag was curled at the edges as though it had maybe gone through the wash by accident once or twice.

Hawkins wasn't surprised to see the man give him a curious look. It was not particularly usual to see someone sitting outside of a patient room. It would have been obvious to anyone that he was guarding the occupant even though he did not have a police uniform on. He made note of the janitor's name and description in his note pad and didn't give the little man any more thought as he continued to write his report.

* * *

After he first woke from his ordeal, Don had found comfort in the close and constant presence of his family. He had always been so self reliant, ever since childhood, but when he found himself in a situation where he felt utterly helpless having his father and Charlie so near bolstered his spirits and helped to keep the fear humming deep inside of him at bay.

Ever since his family left that morning he thought about was how Charlie and his father were fairing. He knew that Megan would make sure that they were well protected and that eased his mind but he felt scared and vulnerable without them by his side.

Don drifted in and out of sleep over the course of the day. His temperature had reached a high of 101.4 and the incision and vacuum bandage on his chest was a constant source of either pain or itchiness. He had to remind himself constantly to try not to scratch because every time that did, it would cause red hot waves of pain to course through his chest and unwelcome memories to invade his mind.

When he was awake he thought about his family, his co-workers, the case and the updates that Megan had given him, anything to push the thoughts of Shelly's twisted smile from his mind. He tried vainly to remain awake as much as possible because in his sleep she visited him with her hands covered in his own blood and the fear that he kept buried so deep that even he didn't fully comprehend it's scope would begin to rise up trying to consume him.

Every time he succumbed to sleep he would wake bathed in sweat panting hard and have buzzers sounding to alert the staff to his dramatically increased heart rate. Dr. Hammell prescribed a mild sedative to try and calm him but that only intensified the situation for Don. He was finding it harder to ward off sleep and the torment that it would bring.

Finally around five in the afternoon Don could hold out no longer against the sedative and he fell into a drug deepened sleep, a sleep that he couldn't wake himself from easily. He was trapped in his mind as the horror he endured played out in full color.

When Shelly stroked his chest before she started to work on him he felt more anger than fear. She taunted him as she picked up the scalpel and pressed it down against his chest near the base of his neck.

'_This is the price that a traitorous man pays when he sets out to destroy the life of someone else.'_

With slow deliberate pressure she pressed the blade down into his skin and dragged the blade downward. It wasn't as sharp as it should have been and the flesh tore as the first incision was made causing a wave of prickly pain to course through his chest. It was then that Don's anger morphed quickly into fear as the realization finally hit home.

'_I'm going to die here in this room. She is going to cut my heart out while I watch. No one is coming, it's too late.'_

As she almost lovingly continued to cut over and over until she had sliced through skin, muscle, connective tissue and finally the fascia covering the surface of the bone. The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life, including the two times he had been shot. The smell of his own blood was suffocating him. At the rate she was going he silently prayed that he would bleed to death before she could finish with him.

Don had begun to fade in and out of consciousness but was brought back abruptly by the strong smell of ammonia. She used her fingers to pull at the edges of the wound she had made. She slid them under the skin and muscle and tugged the tissue up away from the bone causing new waves of agony to erupt.

She slid her fingers up and down the length of the breast bone under the flesh detaching it with tearing sounds from the edges of the sternum and rib cage. Don passed out again at this new assault on his tortured body only to be brought round once again by the acrid odor of the smelling salts.

The retractor that she lifted up and carefully put together making sure Don could see every detail looked more like some medieval instrument of torture than a surgical implement to Don.

She reached into the wound again and lifted the skin to fit the curved edges of the retractor blades under the tissue and against the smooth surface of the bone. She bent down and kissed Don on the lips then. He tried to turn his head away from her but she bit his lip between her teeth and applied just enough pressure to keep his head still without breaking the skin.

She stood back up and smiled down at the agent and slowly began to turn the crank handle on the retractor separating the blades. As his wounded flesh spread apart; pain was no longer an adequate term to describe what he felt. Never in his life had he screamed they way he did at that moment. She laughed as he screamed which had the effect of intensifying his fear. This woman had reduced him to a victim. He begged her to stop; Don never begged. He pleaded with God to end his suffering; Don was not an openly religious man.

When she used that same knife to begin to cut a grove down the center of his breast bone he couldn't understand how a person could have nerves in bone but it was like a white hot sword scraping along his entire being.

This woman had changed his core self. He was no longer strong and self reliant; he was no longer brave. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and be held by his parent and rocked to sleep. He wanted his mother to tell him that the monster wasn't real and that everything would be fine, but the monster _was_ real and she was standing here before him stripping away not only his flesh, but his very soul.

Colby had taken up the post of watchman shortly after Don had fallen asleep. The heart monitor began to beep faster drawing his attention then Don screamed echoing the screeching alarms on the heart monitor. Colby flew into the room with his gun raised, looking for the agent's assailant.

Don was thrashing his head back and forth and Colby moved quickly to the bed holstering his weapon. He grabbed Don's hand as his eyes opened suddenly. Don looked down and saw the foam bandaging and the tube running from his chest and his eyes opened wide in terror. Not being able to move the arm that Colby was holding he instinctively reached with his left hand and yanked the tube out along with a good amount of the foam packing the wound.

This sent a wave of pain that caused Don to scream again in agony while Colby grabbed his left arm to keep him from doing any more damage to the wound on his chest.

"We need help in here! Don! Stop, you're safe now! Don, its Colby!"

Don's eyes were glazed with the sedative and wild from the nightmare. Colby recognized these symptoms having seen them from soldiers in an acute flashback. He kept a strong hold on Don arms but tried to get the agent to focus on his face. He needed to bring him back from the precipice of the delusion.

"Don, look at me! Look at me, its over. This isn't where you think it is. This isn't that storeroom."

Don did look at Colby and the panic began to fade slightly from his eyes. Dr. Hammell who was just getting ready to leave and two nurses came charging into the room. Colby still had Don's arms in a tight grip and didn't move right away when the hospital personnel entered. Don was responding and he wasn't going to let him go until Don knew where he was.

"Don, you're in the hospital."

"Colby?"

Don looked around then down at his chest. The wound was open and bleeding which made no sense to him. Then he looked over at his left hand and saw that he still clutched the foam bandage and suction tube. His head began to spin and his eyes rolled up as everything went black.

Colby stepped back immediately so that Dr. Hammell and the nursing staff could begin to assess the damage as he moved cautiously out of the room and dialed Megan's number. Megan arrived at the hospital within thirty minutes of Colby's call. Don had been given a strong sedative and Dr. Hammell stepped out of the room to speak to Megan.

"Agent Reeves, I know that you wanted to move him tonight but that just can't happen at this time. Luckily your other agent stopped him from doing any truly serious damage but this is going to set him back quite a bit. When he tore the foam bandaging out the adhesive tore a horizontal gash off of the chest incision. I have sutured it and re-applied the VAC bandage. I understand that Agent Eppes was tied down and tortured but if he is allowed to pull at that bandage again he could cause a far more serious injury. I don't want to do this, but I am going to have to order the use of restraints."

Colby stepped forward and spoke. "It's only because he was asleep and dreaming. If we tie him down the flash backs will get worse. I've seen this kind of post traumatic stress before. If he has a nightmare and wakes up tied down it will only intensify the effect."

"I'm sorry, sir, but there really is no other choice. Agent Eppes could have seriously injured himself this evening, and in fact did do enough damage that he will not be going anywhere any time soon. The only good outcome of this is that I was able to see that the infection is indeed clearing and the deeper tissues of the wound have begun to heal. There is no new necrotic tissue and granulation tissue has begun forming. Now all we have to do is ward off any new infections and hope that the additional tear doesn't cause problems with the healing process of the vertical incision."

This complicated matters for Megan. She had planned on moving Don to Huntington in the wee hours of the morning but now it appeared that he was going to have to stay where he was. She decided to have Colby stay in the room with Don to prevent any further problems. She told Dr. Hammel that she would arrange for a psychological evaluation for him. She did not want anyone outside of the nurses spacifically cleared for this floor to have access to Don.

The fact that one of Saborgia's known assciates, Tommy Torpe, had turned up to see Shelly Arbury twice during the course of the day confirmed in her mind that a contract had been put out on the Eppes' brothers. She had David running down all of the known snitches associated with Saborgia to try and confirm this fact.

She decided to stay at the hospital with Don until he woke up. He came out of the sedation by nine in the evening confused and in pain. She held his hand until he focused on her face. When he tried to bring his hand up to his face he found that he was unable to move it more than a few inches and panic set in. He started pulling on the restraints that were tied to the sides of the bed.

"What the hell? Megan why am I tied up? What's going on? Let me go! Untie me!"

"Don, calm down." Megan brought her hand up to his face and stroked it gently to try and get him to look at her.

"You woke up screaming earlier and pulled the bandage off your chest. In the process you did some damage and the doctor had to suture up a new tear that was caused. Don, the restraints are for your protection. You have to calm down or they won't be coming off any time soon."

Don squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his head into the pillow. He used all of his will power to relax his muscles and put on a face of composed calm. The desire to move his arms was nearly overpowering but he remained in tight control. He opened his eyes again and focused on Megan's face.

"Megan I…  
…Isn't there some other way?"

"Don, you seriously hurt yourself. They can't risk you doing that again. I'm sorry."

"It's the dreams."

Don didn't want to talk about this but he needed to have his freedom. Shelly had truly made him a victim even of his own mind. He glanced over at Colby sitting in the corner and without even being asked Colby got up and stepped out of the room.

"Megan, I'm fine when I'm awake. It's when I fall asleep; I'm in that storeroom again. I can't make that go away. But when I'm awake I'm in control, I won't hurt myself. Please tell them I am all right if I'm awake."

There was a pleading look in Don's eyes that sent a wave of pain through her heart. She had never seen that look in Don Eppes' eyes before and she never wanted to again.

"I'm not sure I can do that, Don."

"Look, I'll take a psych evaluation. I'll talk to anyone you want me to talk to, I'll do what ever is necessary but when I am awake I need to be free. I won't fight the restraints if I'm sleeping OK? But not when I'm awake."

Megan sat back studying Don's face and his eyes. It is true that he had not had any waking episodes. He had only lost control when in the throws of the nightmare of his torture.

"All right Don, I'll talk to Dr. Hammell. I'm going to have the agent assigned to you moved into the room rather than out in the hall. When you fall asleep the wrist restraints go on."

Don breathed a sigh of relief.

"And you _will_ have that psych evaluation when you are feeling a little better. That will be non-negotiable."

"How are Dad and Charlie?"

"They're fine; it's you I'm concerned about. It's late and you need to get some rest. These will stay on for right now, because you are going to get some sleep whether you want to or not. I'll talk to Dr. Hammell about taking them off while you are awake and since there will be an agent actually in the room I'm pretty sure I can convince him to agree."

"Thanks Megan."

She smiled at Don and patted his shoulder gently.

"Don't mention it. I'll be back tomorrow to check on you all right?"

Don forced a smile and replied, "Only if you bring more of that Nut House Mocha."

Megan stood up grinning. "You got it boss. Get some rest."

Don took a few deep breaths and concentrated on relaxing every muscle in his body. There was nothing he could do about the wrist restraints for the moment and a small voice inside his mind told him that if he had hurt himself that badly then they really should be in place. How could he have come to this? How did he end up reduced to being tied down so that he would be a danger to himself, waking up screaming like a frightened little boy in the dark of night? A burning coal of anger seethed deep down inside of him. Shelly Arbury would burn in hell for her actions. He would personally see to that and he would sit front and center when they put the needle in her arm.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N -** The reviews that I have gotten really make a huge difference. Anonymous-unknown thanks again. This chapter was going to be a little longer but when you read the last sentenceyou'll see why I ended it where I did. I'm working two stories right now and will do my best to keep pace with both.  
Yours respectfully,  
Alice I

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

During the night Don had awakened and asked Colby to untie him so that he could use the bathroom. As he was helping Don into a sitting position the night nurse entered the room to check on her patient's vitals and immediately tried to get Don to lie back down explaining that he should use the urinal instead of getting up to use the bathroom.

This seemingly simple instruction set off a reaction that neither the nurse nor Colby had expected from Don. He flatly refused to lie down and when the nurse approached him with the plastic container he became angry and hit it out of her hands.

"Get the hell away from me with that thing!"

The nurse clearly upset by this reaction, backed away quickly as Colby tried grabbed Don's arm to keep him from swinging at her again.

"Don, she's just doing her job! What's the big deal?"

"NO! Damn it, you people have taken everything away from me including my freedom, you won't take my last shred of dignity too. No one is touching me do you hear me Granger? No one gets to touch me!"

Don was panting and his heart rate had shot up alarmingly. He had a pained look on his face and he spoke again through clenched teeth.

"Look miss, I'm sorry, but I really need to use the bathroom. I will not use that thing and there is no way in hell that I will let anyone try to assist me in that manner. As long as I use the chest pillow to support my wound and have help taking the three or four steps required to make it from the here to the bathroom I will take care of my own personal needs. Am I clear on this?"

The nurse relented but not before writing furiously in Don's chart. He didn't care what she wrote. Colby helped him to stand and with the help of the nurse they got him and the VAC pump into the bathroom. Colby stared at the closed door for a few minutes frowning at Don's reaction.

When Megan arrived at the hospital just before six in the morning Colby looked almost as bad as Don. He felt terrible for what he witnessed Don going through and regretted having to report the altercation between the agent and the nurse. He knew that the post traumatic stress was getting to Don and he couldn't even imagine what it must have been like to have that crazy woman cut him open like that.

Colby couldn't define what was really bothering him, but his gut was telling him that there was more to Don's reaction than there appeared to be. During the course of the night Don had two serious nightmares. During the first one he yelled 'Don't touch me!' which would seem reasonable enough considering what had happened, but Colby got a different sense from those words.

Once Colby had woken Don up after each nightmare he wanted to use the bathroom and had to be helped up. By then they had worked out a way to move the VAC pump without calling for the nurse which Colby was thankful for when he heard the water turn on and almost mask the sounds of Don's sobs.

Colby tried to reason with himself that Don had been through so much trauma, and now that he was being watched constantly and restrained while he slept he had every right to need to express some grief.

He had done his share of crying in Afghanistan but no one ever knew about it. A man needs to have some things kept private. It was bad enough that he had no choice but to eavesdrop on Don's most private moments he certainly had no interest in sharing them with Megan or anyone else for that matter.

Megan entered the room quietly and motioned for Colby to come out. He handed her his report without saying a word and just watched her face as she read about the incident last night. She already knew about it because that same nurse had seen her in the hallway and stopped her to discuss it.

"Colby, tell me what happened. Not what this says…" she said holding up the pages he had given her "…but what really happened. I have already gotten Miss Haverly's version."

"He woke up and wanted to use the bathroom. Everything was fine until nurse Haverly came in and tried to get him to stay in bed and use a urinal. When she brought it over to him he…"

"What?"

"He kind of freaked out a little. He swung at it knocking it out of her hand and said to get the hell away from him. Then he said that you people have taken everything away from him but he wouldn't let them take his last shred of dignity. I mean I can understand why he felt that way really."

Megan studied Colby's features for a moment. He was nervous and kept looking just past her shoulder or just past the side of her face, anywhere but directly into her eyes.

"What aren't you telling me Colby?"

"Nothing, that's what happened… it's just that…"

Megan waited. Colby looked down at his feet for a moment then glanced back toward the door to Don's room.

"Look I'm no psychologist but I got a sense from him last night. When she came at him with that urinal he was almost acting like an animal backed into a corner."

Megan frowned because she wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"When he first got here after Charlie and David found him, they took care of his injuries, but he was never examined for any other kind of assault."

"What are you talking about? What other kind of assault?"

"When he was freaking out he said; and I quote _'No one is touching me do you hear me Granger? No one gets to touch me!'_ Then when he had one of the nightmares he said it again _'Don't touch me.'_"

"Oh God, are you suggesting that she sexually assaulted him?"

Colby held his hands up in the air and backed up a bit.

"I'm not suggesting anything, Megan. I just got a hinky feeling about his reaction. This could still all be explained by the fact that the bitch tried to carve him up like a Sunday roast. That is plenty traumatic enough, hell that's more trauma than any of us ever saw in Afghanistan."

"Ok, Colby. Thanks for your honesty. Look, go home and get some sleep. I'm going to need you later this afternoon. Do you think you might be up for another night shift with Don?"

"Hey no problem, I'll do what ever I need to for him, you know that."

"Thanks Colby. I just thought that after everything that has been happening to him, a little continuity might just go a long way. I also don't want to have lots of other agents putting him into restraints. He trusts you and that helps with this situation."

Colby stepped back into the room to grab his jacket and Don opened his eyes.

"Hey man, you bailin' on me?"

Colby stepped over to Don and smiled.

"Nah, just going home for a couple winks, then I'll be back." He bent over and started to undo the restraints. "Here let me take these off for you. Megan brought Nut House Mocha just like you asked."

Don used the bed controls to sit the head of the bed up and rubbed his wrists absentmindedly as Colby stepped outside and held the door for Megan. She immediately noticed that he was rubbing his wrists and sat down next to the bed looking concerned.

"Were those too tight?"

"Only when I pulled on them." Don answered dryly.

She handed him the coffee she had brought and he accepted it but didn't take a sip. He just held it in his hands as if warming them on the sides of the cup. Megan looked closely at Don trying to decide what she should say. She had decided to have the psych. evaluation done later this morning if she could arrange it. Colby's impressions had seriously bothered her. He was no slouch and had shown quite a bit of perceptiveness over the past year that she had been working with him.

"So you had a rough night huh?"

"I've had better."

"I heard that you got up a couple of times."

"Kinda' had to. The bathrooms over there."

Don was avoiding looking at her. He was give simple answers and was basically being non cooperative so she decided that the direct approach would work better. After all Don was a no-nonsense guy and usually responded to a direct question.

"Would you like to tell me about the altercation that you had with the nurse last night?"

"No."

"You really upset her you know."

Don looked at Megan this time. _'That did it.'_

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten her."

"I didn't say that she was frightened."

"Oh." _'Great back to monosyllabic answers.'_

"Don, why were you so upset about using the bathroom?"

Don looked at Megan with fury behind his eyes. His jaw tensed up and she noticed that his heart rate began to rise.

"First I am kidnapped, taped down to a piece of ply wood and cut open like some piece of meat, I am brought to the hospital, I am told that the mob is going to try and kill me, my family is taken away from me, my dreams are invaded by horrible memories that cause me to have a nightmare that I over react to and now I'm being tied down at night when I sleep. I constantly watched, I have no privacy and now some young little girl is going to tell me that I can't even urinate in peace; that I have to do even that for a captive audience! What the fuc…  
What do you want from me? What other basic human dignity do you want to strip from me now?"

Megan sighed. "Don no one is trying to dehumanize you."

"That's the way it feels."

Maybe Colby was right, maybe this is all explained by the stress. He has been through a more horrific experience than any other person that she has ever known, but she had to know for herself.

"When you gave me your deposition about what happened in that storeroom, was it complete?"

Don just stared at her without answering. He had a guarded look in his eyes.

"Did you tell me everything that Shelly Arbury did to you, Don?"

Megan watched as Don shut down. It was like pulling a switch. A veil of dead space descended over his eyes and his face became blank; his voice monotonous and he didn't look directly into her eyes as he answered.

"Yes."

'_He's lying. Christ what did that sick bitch do to him?'_

"Are you sure?"

Don set the coffee down on the tray table and lay back on the bed as he used the control to lower it.

"Go ahead and tie me up I'm tired and I'm going to take a nap."

With that he turned his head away from Megan and closed his eyes. She stood up and squeezed his shoulder.

"The restrains aren't necessary right now. Mark Hawkins will be here in a few minutes."

Don didn't answer her. He had closed down and that worried her more than anything else. Megan was very concerned that Don might be slipping into depression. That would slow his healing process and extend his hospital stay, something that would only exacerbate his problems. He needed to be with his father and brother. When they were an ever present source of support for him he had done well. If not for the infection that caused that first high fever he would have been out of here by now. She was pulled from her musings when the door opened and Mark Hawkins entered the room.

After giving Mark a run down on the new procedure she left for the safe house. Megan thought about what she was going to tell Charlie and Alan as she made her way down to the parking garage. She had to tell them what had happened. She found herself struggling with this issue.

Telling them about Don's current condition would do far more than worry them and there was absolutely nothing that they could do about it, but if she were in their position she wouldn't be able to forgive the person who withheld that information. The question was; how much information should she give?

The ride to the safe house was long with the morning commuters. When she arrived she was not surprised to find that Charlie had indeed been working. According to Dan Hodges who was looking over the evening and night reports he had been at it a good chunk of the night. He had actually stopped for a four hour nap but by five in the morning he was up and at the white boards again. He had filled nearly half of one of the spiral notebooks already from data that he took from his laptop.

"Well, Charlie what has you so engrossed?" Megan called as she sat down at the dinette table.

Charlie looked up from his notebook with a startled and almost guilty expression on his face. Megan wasn't sure what to make of that but filed her impression away to be studied later. Right now she had the unpleasant task of telling Don's family about his set back.

Alan came out of the left hand bedroom at the sound of Megan's voice and smiled brightly before he glanced over at Charlie's work area and his smile faltered somewhat.

"Charlie, you promised me that you would sleep!"

"I did, Dad, I just got up a little early that's all."

Charlie wanted to avoid a confrontation with his father and walked over to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"So is Don all settled at Huntington Memorial?"

Megan didn't answer right away. Charlie came and sat down at the table along with Alan and they exchanged worried frowns. Alan saw the hesitation in Megan's body language and spoke first.

"What happened, Megan; is Don all right?"

"We couldn't move him last night. There was an incident."

Both Alan and Charlie took in sharp breaths at this and Megan continued before either one of them could start asking questions.

"He had a nightmare about his abduction and when he woke up he tore away the VAC bandaging causing some more damage to his wound. Dr. Hammell fixed him up and re-applied the bandage but it has been a rough road for him. He will have to stay where he is for a while until his wounds can begin some substantial healing."

Megan paused for a moment and both Charlie and Alan could see that she had something more to say but was reluctant to. Alan reached out and took her hand in his.

"What is it Megan?"

"Dr. Hammell had no choice…  
…He ordered the use of wrist restraints when Don is sleeping."

"What!"

Charlie stood up so quickly that he nearly knocked over his coffee. The anger in his face was palpable and Megan winced slightly.

"That can't do that to him! Megan after what he went through… God Damn it!"

"Charlie!"

Alan was also on his feet placing a calming hand on his younger son's shoulder which Charlie brushed off roughly.

"You don't understand! Neither of you do! You can't know what it's like to be tied down to a board and know that you are going to be butchered. To know that there is nothing you can do to stop it! You can't begin to imagine how it feels to have your ability to fight back, to protect yourself systematically stripped away from you. Tying him down will only serve to make those feelings of helplessness worse for Don."

Charlie was panting and had broken out in a cold sweat but he didn't seem to notice. He began pacing back and forth as he ranted on about this situation.

"What about this threat of an assassin? How is he supposed to protect himself if someone tries to kill him? How sure are you that a plausible threat even exists?"

Charlie was having difficulty breathing at the moment as a full out anxiety attack descended on him like a suffocating blanket. His knees buckled and he dropped to the floor gasping. Alan was at his side in an instant telling him to concentrate on his breathing. It took a few minutes for Charlie to remember his breathing techniques and calm down but once he had control again he gently pushed his father's hands away saying that he was all right. Alan allowed him to get up under his own power and take a seat at the table although he hovered closely for a few minutes to reassure himself that his youngest was past the attack.

"Charlie, I understand how difficult this is for both of you, it's difficult for Don too. We believe that there is a real threat however. Shelly Arbury had a visitor yesterday. A man named Tommy Torpe who works for Anthony Saborgia came to see her late yesterday morning, then again in the afternoon. On the second visit he had a woman with him. We now know that it was Rebecca Cantor."

Both Alan and Charlie looked up quickly at that news.

"So you have her? You have Shelly's accomplice?"

Megan sighed in frustration; this is the part she really hated to admit.

"I'm sorry Charlie. We have viewed the surveillance video and have determined that Rebecca Cantor was at the prison but she did not use the alias Shirley Poulton. She was logged into the visiting register as Stella Tandy. Charlie, if Rebecca is here and using different aliases and is meeting with Saborgia's people then there is no other assumption that we can make. We are positive that a hit has been ordered and probably paid for."

Charlie slumped in his chair. It was Alan's turn to be angry.

"You mean to tell me that this accomplice in the murders of seven FBI agents walked right into a federal prison and then walked right back out again? How in God's name does that happen?"

Megan was not happy about this either and had planned on a visit to the prison to give the duty officers a serious dressing down. They may not have had the name Stella Tandy but they had pictures of Rebecca Canter. Someone fell down on the job and it looked very bad for the FBI.

"I can not explain that Mr. Eppes. It was a mistake on the part of the prison duty officer and I can only apologize. I can assure you that this will not go uninvestigated. Some heads will roll when Director Donaldson gets my report this morning."

"Rolling heads doesn't help Don. It doesn't help me. Why is Shelly Arbury being allowed visitors anyway? She is accused of a capitol crime. Can't she be put in isolation or something?"

Charlie wasn't getting worked up again but there was a note of desperation in his voice.

"Shelly's lawyer has been making lots of waves. He is advocating for her rights in all of the places that he can. She is innocent until proven guilty and all of that. Marco Benadero is an expert in these matters. Mob lawyers are very good at getting visitation rights for their clients for obvious reasons."

'_So this is really happening. There is no doubt anymore.'_

"I want to see Don. I want to go to the hospital."

"Charlie, there is no way that is going to happen. We can not risk it. It's too dangerous for you and for Don."

Charlie didn't look up at Megan as he spoke his next words. He stared down at the table watching as the grain of the wood blurred as tears began to form in his eyes.

"He needs me, he needs his family. If we were there with him we could prevent him from hurting himself."

Charlie did look up then and stared Megan in the eyes. He didn't care that he had tears running down his face. He didn't care that he seemed weak to any of them as he pleaded.

"Please, Megan, you can't let them tie him down. I understand what he is feeling right now. I can help him. I want to go back to the hospital."

This was more difficult than she had expected and her heart went out to the young man. She understood how desperately Charlie wanted to see Don, but having both of them in one place that is as unsecured as a public hospital was exactly the target that Saborgia's man would be looking for. She wasn't fooled that Saborgia's hit man would automatically believe the report of Don's death. This was the hardest thing she had ever had to do but she took Charlie's hand in her own.

"No Charlie. You are staying right here."

Charlie pulled his hands away from Megan and got up from the table turning his back on her. The only way that this was going to end was if he ended it. He ignored both his father and Megan when they called to him. He went directly to his notebooks and white boards. He would find the path of the money flow for this mob family and use that information to blackmail Alto DiBenedetto for his family's freedom.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N- **As you can see I'm writing like crazy! The story is morphing as I write it so bear with me. I'm not sure how long this fast and frenzied pace will last. Please enjoy this next installment, and I will begin work on the next chapter tomorrow morning.

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Alan could tell that something else was bothering Megan and decided to walk her out into the hallway as she prepared to leave. He placed a restraining hand on her arm and when she turned to look at him he didn't say anything at first but searched her eyes. Something had happened with his son that she hadn't told them about, of that he was sure.

"Megan, when you become a parent you develop a sixth sense about matters where your children are concerned. Age doesn't diminish this effect, so I am asking…  
…no I am _telling_ you that you had better come clean about my son. There is something else that happened and as Don's father I have a right to know what that is."

Megan had never heard Alan speak so forcefully and she marveled at his perceptiveness. She thought that she had hidden her discomfort fairly well. Perhaps Alan should have taken up a career as a profiler. She noticed a short bench sitting against the far wall of the hallway and she led Alan to it and sat down with him.

"I am having a psychological evaluation done on Don later this morning. His reaction last night to the nightmare was only a part of what happened. I have a suspicion, and mind you this is pure speculation, that he didn't tell me everything that happened in that storeroom when he gave his deposition."

"What are you talking about? What did he leave out?"

"I don't know, but when the night nurse tried to help him to use a urinal instead of getting up to use the bathroom he became violent. He wouldn't let her near him and he said that no one was going to touch him. All of that can easily be explained by the severity of the physical trauma that he went through."

"But, you think something else happened." It was a statement rather than a question and Alan started to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"When I asked him this morning if he had told me everything he lied. Something else happened in that storeroom and he won't talk about it."

Alan got up and paced to the other side of the hallway then turned around and leaned against the wall for support as he stared Megan in the eyes.

"What do you _think_ happened to my son?"

Megan stood up as she sighed deeply. She didn't want to be having this conversation right now but Alan was not giving her much choice.

"I don't really know, only Don knows that, but he is showing some of the same signs we see in victims of sexual assault."

Alan dropped his head into his hands. "Oh God."

Megan moved quickly to the older man and put her arm around his shoulders.

"This is still only speculation. Like I said it could be just a reaction to what was done to him. That is just as plausible."

Alan looked up at her with such a weary face that she felt worse than she had before she came here to tell them about Don.

"You know for a fact that he lied to you when you asked him if there was anything he didn't tell you?"

Megan only nodded.

"Megan, I am not a target for this killer. When there is a contract out on someone the assassin only goes after the targets right?"

Again Megan nodded, she knew where this was going but she wasn't sure she wanted to try and deal with this at the moment. There were so many loose ends to tie up and leads to run down. God this was going to be a long day.

"I want to see my son. The risk to me is only by association and it sounds like he needs me."

"What about Charlie?"

Alan looked back at the door to the small apartment. "Charlie will understand. He knows that he can't be with Don right now. He is losing himself in his numbers again. Charlie doesn't need me right now but Don does. Please think about it Megan."

"I'll talk to Merrick and Director Donaldson. I won't promise anything. It won't happen today for sure and probably not tomorrow, but I promise I'll keep you informed about his progress."

"Megan, I want to know how the psychological evaluation goes. I understand that it is confidential information, but as a parent I need to know what happened to my child."

Megan nodded. "I'll tell you what I can, but again I make no promises."

"That's fair enough."

Megan stood up on her toes and gave Alan a light kiss on the cheek. "Take care of Charlie; don't let him get too lost."

With that Megan turned and headed down the stairs. By the time she got into her car she felt as though she had been up all night. She looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror critically. There was a lot to do today and no time for emotions. She flipped open her cell and contacted the FBI Psych. Office to set up the evaluation. Luckily there was a psychologist available for 10:00 in the morning and Megan knew her. Her next stop was the prison for an official visit with the duty officer.

* * *

Charlie didn't speak to his father at all when he came back into the apartment. He was aware that he had left with Megan and had come back a few minutes later. He acknowledged him with a half glance when Alan came over and stood near by.

"Charlie, I spoke with Megan. She is going to try and get it approved so that I can go to the hospital and be with Don."

Charlie stopped writing at this but didn't turn around. He nodded his head after a moment and started writing again. Alan stepped over to his son and squeezed his shoulder then left him alone to his work.

Dan had made himself scarce during the conversation with Megan and the Eppes men but had heard everything. He made some coffee for Alan and brought it to him and they sat in a companionable silence for a while before Alan decided to pick up the newspaper and try to concentrate on the daily crossword puzzle.

This proved to be a useless endeavor for his thoughts kept drifting back to his son, lying all alone in a hospital bed fighting off emotional demons without the support of his family. How had their lives come to this? When would this be over?

Charlie became hyper-focused on his work. The time for caution was over. He had to get this done as quickly as possible. He doubted that either of the men in the room with him would understand anything up on the white boards. He was careful, however, to only use them for his calculations. He kept the raw data such as dollar amounts and account numbers either on the disk on the laptop or in the spiral notebook.

It turned out that he reached dead ends when he followed the DOJ and FBI trails to the off shore banks. They had never had the appropriate clout to demand a look at the inner financial workings of those institutions and he could see why the government was never able to pin anything on these men

Charlie however was not bound by those rules. He was more than happy to hack into these financial institutions computer systems. He found that they had firewall protection that was far superior to that of the United States government and it took him quite a bit longer to hack his way into these systems.

His determination and intelligence however were no match for the off shore banks. Charlie was on a mission that he would not be deterred from no matter what obstacles he encountered.

Logic was his weapon and he wielded it like a sword cutting through encryptions and complicated binary patterns to achieve his goal. Once he had gained access to the first of the bank's internal systems he found a wealth of data on more than just the mob family, but as alluring as the other numbers were he only downloaded the information he needed. The rest of the banks posed less resistance because it turned out that they all used the same security packages and he knew how to get past them now.

Alan was mildly concerned by Charlie's behavior. His intensity while he worked had a different feel to it than he had ever seen. Charlie had always displayed a frenetic energy when he was engrossed in his numbers but now there seemed to be something else at work here. He seemed driven as if some invisible task master was standing behind him lashing a whip at his heels. He had not even displayed this type of behavior when he got lost in P vs NP while his mother lay dieing.

Megan may have had a point about keeping an eye on Charlie but he did stop to eat lunch without complaint, even though Alan could see that Charlie hardly noticed what he was eating. His eyes weren't glazed over but he was still miles away; his mind obviously working diligently on what ever mathematical problem had engrossed him so much.

Alan couldn't think of an objection that he could raise as long as Charlie ate and slept at night. He was still uneasy about the nearly manic gleam in his youngest son's face as he worked but there was little that he could do about it. If Megan was able to arrange his move to the hospital he was going to make sure that the agents watching Charlie had instructions to drag him away from his boards to eat and sleep.

* * *

After a through dressing down of the prison duty officer and a report that went into his permanent record Megan drove into the FBI offices to present her report to Assistant Director Merrick. She had nearly made it to his office when David ran up to her waving his arms frantically.

"We got a call this morning from Thomas Cantor. He and his wife came back home early from a vacation in New Hampshire to find a letter from Rebecca explaining a few things to them like how she stole $350,000 from their retirement fund."

"Are you kidding?"

"No; I gave them our fax number and they faxed a copy of the letter here. Mr. Cantor is taking the next flight out to LA and said he would come in to talk with us. He expects to be here sometime tomorrow morning."

"Where is this letter?"

David handed her the fax sheet and she took it to her desk to sit down and read it.

_Dear Daddy,  
__By the time you get this letter I'll be gone. I am so very sorry for everything that I am about to tell you.  
I don't know how things got so out of control, but when Shell is involved they always do.  
__The first thing that you should know is that I am not the girl you always thought I was.  
I did a terrible thing when I was young and have lived with that guilt my entire life.  
The fire that killed Aunt Irene and Uncle Brad was my fault. I set that fire and killed them.  
Shelly has protected me ever since we were kids from that truth. She never told anyone what  
I had done and I owe her for that.  
__She has gotten herself in a whole heap of trouble and has done some very bad things.  
It's my fault really. I gave her something that I shouldn't have. She asked me to get it but if  
I had only said no…  
__Who am I kidding; I have never been able to say no to Shell.  
__Daddy, I understand if you can never forgive me for this but I wanted you to know that it was  
me who did it. I took some money from your retirement fund. I feel so bad about this.  
You trusted me with that account so that I could take care of momma if anything ever  
happened to you and I have just betrayed that trust.  
__Shell needed money, lots of it. Like I said she got herself in some really bad trouble.  
She wanted me to clean out your account but she doesn't know how much is in there  
so I only took $350,000.  
__I'm so sorry Daddy. Once I do this last thing for Shelly I am going to go away.  
I'll never talk to her again. I know you must hate me now but know that I love you and momma.  
I am so sorry for everything.  
__Goodbye,  
__Becca_

Megan looked up at David after reading the letter.

"That confirms it. $350,000 will defiantly buy a hit even if the target is an FBI agent."

"Tell me about it. So what now? According to this, Rebecca is 'going away'. Without her we can't really confirm where the money went."

"We have her picture and two known aliases. Redouble the checks at all major transportation hubs. We have to find her before she disappears."

David was looking down at the letter in Megan's hands with an almost soft look in his eyes.

"I feel kind of badly for Rebecca. Her cousin has been playing her since they were kids."

"I know. Shelly told Don that _she_ killed her parents. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it turned out that Shelly started that fire and somehow talked her cousin into believing it was her fault. I mean at the time that it happened Rebecca was only seven years old. Shelly has been manipulating Rebecca all of these years along with everyone else in her life."

David turned to leave but Megan stood and put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"David,…" Megan looked around at the office. Agents were busy buzzing around doing their work. It would not be difficult to overhear in this confined space.

"What is it Megan?"

"There is something I want to tell you. Let's go into the conference room."

David had a puzzled look on his face but he followed her quietly. Once they were behind closed doors Megan told David about the incident with Don last night at the hospital. He and Colby were the men who Don worked most closely with and the men that Don considered friends as well as coworkers. If Don was slipping into depression then she wanted to try and have as many friendly faces around him as she could manage.

"David, I am not going to put what Colby and I discussed in my report to Merrick and Director Donaldson. I have nothing to substantiate those suspicions. He is getting a physiological evaluation… actually right now." Megan said as she glanced down at her watch.

"That report will give me a better idea of what may or may not have happened in that storeroom."

David looked angry by what he had heard. Don wasn't just his lead agent; David considered him a friend and the thought that on top of everything else that he had gone through that he might also have been hurt in that manner made him want to spend a few minutes alone with Shelly Arbury.

"Look, David, Don's behavior could easily be attributed to the physical attack on him and until a psychologist tells me otherwise that is how I will approach this, but I wanted you to know what Colby and I discussed. I need you to really understand the kind of stress that he has been feeling. I'm going to try and rotate you, Colby, Mark and Brian through the rounds at the hospital with him but I am not telling either Mark or Brian what I have just said to you, so keep it to yourself."

"I won't say anything. When do you want me there?"

"I'd like you to take the shift from three to ten. Colby will spend the over night with him so once you get done with the transportation alerts go get some rest and be at the hospital later."

"OK you got it." David turned to leave but stopped as he placed his hand on the door. "Megan, don't tell any of this to Charlie. He has the anxiety under control right now, but this… I just don't know how he would handle it."

"I didn't tell him but Alan knew something was wrong and I had to tell him."

David turned and faced Megan. "You shouldn't have said anything to Mr. Eppes. You don't even know if it is true."

"Normally I would agree with you, David but Mr. Eppes can be very persuasive when he wants answers. He followed me out into the hallway and pulled the 'I'm the parent and I have a right to know' routine. I couldn't lie to him."

David had to smile at that image. He had known Alan Eppes for a little over two years now and he had seen that kind of fire in the older man before. He turned and left the conference room leaving Megan to her thoughts.

* * *

Tony Saborgia walked into the guest house on the grounds of his mansion. Bennie had a large blueprint of LA County General laid out on the pool table looking it over.

"So the fed is still alive is he?"

Bennie didn't look up from his work but answered.

"Oh he's alive, but I can't get to him; he's too well guarded. I was hoping that I could get through the ventilation system. County is an older hospital but they have upgraded the ventilation system sometime over the last ten years. The old large ducts have been replaced with small filtered air shafts."

"So what do you plan on doing? You could get to the kitchen easily enough, poison his food."

Bennie shot a withering look at the man standing before him in a silk bathrobe. The only reason Bennie worked for Saborgia is because he paid well, other wise the man was a clumsy idiot. He had the right accountants, the right muscle, the right hit men but he himself couldn't string together beads without botching it.

"That's why you pay me Mr. Saborgia. Poison would be a poor choice, too unreliable. The trays could get switched, the guard could eat the poisoned food first and spoil the trap, or the target might not be hungry and then what? No; that is not a viable option."

Bennie continued to stare at the hospital blueprint tapping his slender fingers and humming under his breath.

"No, none of my standard options will work in this scenario. I can't take out the target if I can't get to him."

"So what; are you just going to give up?" Tony asked incredulously.

Bennie did look up then and fixed his employer with a piercing stare. "I never just give up. I can't do this clean is all I'm saying."

"Well what do you plan to do then?"

"If I can't get to the target then I'll just have to go with a more direct approach. It will be messy, no finesse, but it will work. Go to a party tonight, something public and stay there until at least three in the morning."

"So are you going to tell me what you have planned or not?"

"If I can't take out the target directly then I'll take out the room he is in. Like I said, it's messy but it will work."

"What about the other one?"

Bennie began to roll up the blueprints. "That is up to you at this point. You have a source within the FBI don't you? Find out where he is and I'll take care of the rest."

"That may take a couple of days, Bennie. Once the older brother has been killed they will want to move the younger one. I won't know for sure where he is until he's settled."

Bennie shrugged. "I don't care when you get the information. As long as I get paid I'll do the job. The time table is yours to worry about not mine. Speaking of getting paid; I want the wire transfer to be complete before I do this job. Once the FBI agent is dead I will not even entertain any thoughts about the younger brother until I have half down on him in my account, so have the transfer ready to go tonight."

"Don't worry old friend, have I ever let you down?" Tony laughed as he walked over to the small man and threw an arm around his shoulder.

Bennie hated it when he got friendly. He preferred to keep their relationship strictly professional on all levels. He stepped away from Saborgia.

"This is a guarded FBI agent, Saborgia! That's a capitol crime _'old friend'_ so I want no debate. The money needs to be in the account before the fireworks, got it?"

"You will have $75,000 dollars in the account by ten o'clock tonight, and once it's done another $25,000 for the good professor."


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N- **There is some foul language in this chapter. As we have already discovered, Becky has a tendency to revert to swearing when she is under high amounts of stress.

Thanks to a reviewer over at Fan Rush I have changed this chapter slightly. In the first few paragraphs the transition from David in the FBI offices to Don at the hospital was too abrupt. I have added a short paragraph to smooth out that transition.

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

Megan stepped out of the conference room only a few moments after David and she called over to him as she passed his desk.

"We can't afford to let Rebecca Cantor slip away so let's use the press to our advantage. We have her picture and her aliases. Let's get that out to all the networks and see if we can't get a good citizen to phone in her location."

"You got it boss."

David turned back to his computer screen wondering if he had over stepped his bounds with Megan. He had essentially scolded his senior officer for what he considered a mistake on her part. She didn't seem to have taken offense but sometimes Megan was hard to read.

He decided that it wasn't going to get him anywhere to speculate at this point so he simply focused on the tasks at hand. He needed to contact the transportation hubs, but the news media would come first. If they got her face plastered all over the air waves she would find it hard to travel publicly.

As David worked his thoughts wandered to the hospital and Don. A small part of him wished that Megan had not told him of her suspicions. He knew that Don was talking with the psychologist now and he wondered how that was going. Don didn't like doctors much and he was fairly certain he liked shrinks even less; especially when they were focused on him. With a shake of his head he went back to the task at hand. If anyone could handle a psychological evaluation it was Don Eppes.

Don sat up in bed facing the psychologist named Ally Martin who was looking over a file in her lap. She was sent here to determine what? Don's thoughts drifted back to what Megan had asked him this morning. Had he told the truth? Had he given a complete account of what had happened in that storeroom? He had thought of nothing else since Megan left just after six thirty in the morning.

'_I told her everything that was important. I told her everything that they needed to know. The rest is mine and no one has a right to what's in my heart, not even the FBI.'_

"Agent Eppes, you have been through one of the most horrific experiences that I have ever encountered. I understand that this will be difficult for you, so we can go as slowly as you need to, but we do need to talk about what happened."

"Yeah, I get that. I know you've read my deposition, so why don't we jump right to the real reason you're here. You want to know about last night."

"The 'real reason' I'm here as you put it, is because an agent has been through an emotionally and physically traumatic experience. I'm not the enemy you know. I'd like to get you out of the restraints at night, but that will only happen if you can work with me. But since you bring it up can you tell me why you had such a strong reaction to the nurse trying to assist you with the use of a urinal?"

Don sighed and shook his head slightly.

"Look I'll tell you the same thing I told Megan. I am sorry if I upset that young woman, and as soon as I see her I intend to apologize to her. As you have stated I have been through a lot, my family has been taken away for their protection as well as my own, I have a nightmare and now I'm being tied down at night which serves to increase my sense of anxiety, I'm watched all of the time, I have no privacy at all and when that nurse essentially tried to get me to use that thing it was the last straw. The agent in me understands why all of these measures are necessary, but until you are on the receiving end of these measures you couldn't possibly understand how it feels."

"You told Agent Reeves that you are being dehumanized?"

"Actually that was her word, but yes it is an apt description of how this feels. I was made to feel absolutely helpless by this woman, this killer. I had no control, no way to protect myself or fight back. I could do nothing more than watch and feel as she cut me open. Because of the nightmares I have lost my freedom once again. I want to at least be able to go to the bathroom on my own. Can you understand that?"

"Yes I can. Now let me ask you this; why did you tell Agent Granger that 'no one gets to _touch_ you'?"

Don was ready for this question. "From the moment I woke up from the tranquilizer dart that Shelly Arbury subdued me with I have been cut, poked, prodded, sewn up, had a vacuum attached to my chest been tied down so yeah, I have had enough. I hold to that statement even now. I'm tired of this. I can take care of my own personal needs. I don't want anyone touching me if it is unnecessary. When Shelly ran her hands over my chest it made my skin crawl. I still remember that feeling and I don't like it. So no, I really don't want any one touching me unless it is necessary."

Ally nodded as she wrote something down in her notes. The rest of the evaluation took nearly two hours and Don was utterly exhausted by the time they were finished. He had to relive the entire experience for Miss Martin but actually found it a little easier to do a second time. That was good because he knew that when this went to trial he would have to do this all over again and hopefully by then it would be quite a bit easier.

"Thank you for your candor Agent Eppes. I am going to prescribe an anti-anxiety medication for you. Hopefully that will help with the nightmares. If we can get them under a little better control, I'm sure that we can get the restraints removed all together."

Don smiled and shook his head at this news.

"What is humorous?" Ally asked confused by his reaction to being told that he was going to be put on medication or that he might get the restraints removed.

"My brother is also on anti-anxiety medication. He was working on this case and started having anxiety attacks because he was worried that I would…  
…well that I would end up right where I am."

"I see; maybe I should speak with him as well, both of you were abducted by this killer isn't that right?"

"Yeah, Charlie was there when she killed Agent O'Donnell. She blind folded him but he heard everything."

"Once the situation is cleared for safety, I would like to see both of you together. You have both been through similar experiences and you can help each other to get past the emotional repercussions of this trauma."

"That won't happen until they let me out of here. The last I heard it would be at least another week before this contraption comes off." he said pointing to the VAC bandage.

Ally stood up and smiled at him. She was about to reach out and touch his shoulder but remembered his desire not to be touched. "We have time Agent Eppes. Why don't you get some rest? It's been a long morning for you."

Ally stepped out into the hallway and signaled the agent sitting down the hall that she was done. She made her way to the parking garage thinking about her interview with Don Eppes. Once she was inside her car she pulled out her cell phone and called Megan Reeves.

"Reeves."

"Hi Megan, I just finished up with Agent Eppes."

"How did it go?"

"He is smart and hard to read. He's been doing this job for a long time and knows what to say when he is asked questions by a psychologist. Do I think he is hiding something about his experience in that storeroom? It's possible but I am not sure. The fact that his heart rate rose while he was talking about Shelly Arbury isn't an indication of anything other than what it appears to be."

"What did he say about not wanting any one to touch him?"

"Shelly fondled his chest before she started the torture. He says that it still makes his skin crawl. At this point I am putting in to my report that Agent Eppes is dealing with the emotional repercussions of this incident as well as can be expected. He will need counseling and I am prescribing anti-anxiety meds for him."

"Thanks Ally, I appreciate your call. I feel a little better about all of this now."

Megan hung up the phone just as an agent came running into her cubical.

"We have a sighting for Rebecca Cantor. The clerk at the Hyatt downtown remembers seeing her check in yesterday and she paid for her room in cash. We called and they have a Shirley Poulton checked in right now and she is currently in her room."

"Let's move!"

Rebecca Cantor sat quietly on the bed of her hotel room. She got a simple room at the Hyatt in downtown Los Angeles. She had no idea what she was going to do at this point. She didn't want to go south. If Shelly got herself out of this mess that is where she would head and Becky was serious about never wantong to see her again. The last couple of months had been a steadily worsening nightmare and the last week was almost surreal.

Hot tears formed in her eyes and dropped down her cheeks as she thought of her parents and her home. She knew that she would never see them again but what really tortured her mind was the look her father would wear on his face when he read her letter. When he found out what she had done he would never forgive her.

'_I should have faced up to what I did all those years ago. They would have put me in jail but I'd probably be out by now. How long would they put a kid in jail for murder? That Smith kid in New York is in his twenties now but he's still in jail.'_

Becky had no energy to do anything. She had no desire to move or even to run. She had checked into the hotel with the name Shirley Poulton. Some small part of her brain realized that she shouldn't use the name that got her into see Shelly.

At this point Becky was so emotionally wrung out and still exhausted from her flight away from the east coast and her home so that she was running on auto pilot. The only problem was she had no idea where to go or what to do next, so she just sat there in her hotel room staring off into space wishing that she could turn back time so that none of this had ever happened.

She flipped on the TV and lay down on the bed flipping through the channels. She nearly dropped the remote when she saw a news cast that looked like it had been run several times in the background as a reporter spoke about the FBI Killer.

Becky quickly turned up the volume and only half listened as she watched the news footage of Shelly being led out of a building on what looked like a school campus. She was hand cuffed and her arm was stained red with blood, but what really struck Becky was the fact that she had blood everywhere. It was all over her hands and forearms, on the front of her coveralls there was even some on her chin as if she had touched her face with a bloody hand.

Becky had to tear her eyes away from the image of her cousin and focus on the news anchor to hear the actual report.

"This is the scene from last Thursday evening as the prime suspect in the FBI killings was taken into custody. Shelly Arbury, originally from Baltimore Maryland was arrested on now seven counts of murder and will be arraigned next week."

Becky was stunned by what she saw. There was so much blood. How could she have done this? The true nature of these crimes had been hidden from the press but they must have been unbelievably brutal to have that much blood covering her cousin. Becky felt her stomach do a flip flop but suddenly she felt a stone cold fear encompass her entire body when a picture of her own face came up on the screen.

"The FBI is looking for Ms. Arbury's accomplice. Rebecca Cantor who also is using the aliases Stella Tandy or Shirley Poulton is still at large and wanted in connection to these murders. If anyone has any information regarding the where-abouts of this woman please contact the FBI at the number on the bottom of the screen."

Becky was off the bed in an instant and started shoving clothing into the small suitcase. She ran to the table over by the window to grab her purse when the door to the hotel room burst open and several large men all wearing bullet proof vests with guns drawn charges in.

"FBI! Get on your knees! Put your hands behind your head! Do it now!"

* * *

Rebecca Cantor sat mutely at a long table in the FBI interrogation room. A female agent sat across from her not saying anything but staring at her as though she were studying her reactions to her current situation. Becky was petrified. That was clear in her face; it was evident in her eyes that held a nearly feral look.

"We know that you withdrew a large sum of money from your parent's retirement fund. We found nearly fifty thousand dollars in your possession, so what happened to the rest of it?"

Becky didn't answer, her mind was reeling. The suicidal thoughts that had plagued her exhausted mind on the flight out to LA returned in full force, but now there was little that she could do about it.

'_Why didn't I just leave? Why am I still here in LA? What am I going to do now?'_

"Rebecca, I need to know who you gave that money to. Did you give it to Tommy Torpe?"

Becky looked up at Megan with tears in her eyes but her face also held confusion. She didn't know who the agent was talking about.

"Who?"

"Tommy Torpe; the man you were with when you visited your cousin yesterday afternoon."

Becky sighed and lowered her eyes to the table. "I never knew his name. I didn't want to go there, he made me."

Megan sat forward trying to catch the young woman's eye.

"Rebecca, do you realize how much trouble you are in? You are being charged with accessory to murder; the murder of several federal agents. That carries with it sever penalties."

Becky's voice was almost a whisper.

"I didn't kill anyone." A sob escaped her then and she changed her statement. "I didn't kill any FBI agents."

Megan sat back and thought about it. This girl was terrified, she was closing down and if she did that then she would be useless to them. It was time to start pushing some buttons.

"You aided your cousin, she murdered these agents and you helped her to do it. Why are you protecting her? What hold does she have over you?"

Becky's sobbing grew in intensity as she choked out her next words.

"I… I di… didn't help her to kill any… anyone. I gave her a file. That's all I did."

Megan pulled out the file from the Quantico archives detailing the investigation that led to Shelly's dismissal.

"So you freely admit to the theft of government files?"

"I wish I had never seen that fuckin' thing!" Becky brought her hands up to her face and cried openly into them.

"Who did you give the money to? Becky it's time to stop protecting your cousin. Tell me what she told you to do."

"She has always taken care of me. I'm not smart like her; I didn't know how to stay out of trouble or to do things. Shell made sure that no one would ever hurt me. I had to help her, I owe her."

"It sounds to me like Shelly was using you; manipulating you. Are you protecting her because of the fire?"

Becky's head snapped up at that statement and her eyes took on a wary look.

"The fire that burned Shelly's house down; the fire that her parents didn't escape from but you did."

Becky's hands dropped to the table and she stared at Megan in utter disbelief.

"She told you? She promised me that she would never tell anyone what I had done! That fuckin' bitch! I trusted her, I have always trusted her. She held that over me all of our lives! I have always done what she told me to do because she kept my secret. I can't believe that she told you."

This is the reaction that Megan was hoping for; it was time to drive the last nail into the coffin. She pulled out Don's deposition and put it in front of Becky. She had highlighted the section where Shelly confessed to Don that she had killed her own parents.

As Becky read how Shelly had murdered her parents so that they wouldn't send her away her tears dried up and her face paled visibly.

"No!" Becky hissed. She pushed the document away from her as though it were dangerous. She started shaking her head back and forth saying, "It can't be; it can't be. How could she… All of these years… It's been lies… It's all been lies! I'm so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"Becky, you're not stupid. Shelly has been manipulating you since you were a little girl. You need to stop protecting her. She hasn't done right by you. It's time to be smart. Help us and we can help you."

Becky looked up into Megan's eyes expecting to see that same sort of manipulation. How was this FBI agent any different than her cousin? She was being used all the same wasn't she?

"You just want to use me to get to her."

"No, there are lives at stake Becky. That money was used to pay an assassin to kill the men who survived Shelly's torture. She wants them dead so that they can not testify against her. If you help us I will make sure that the DA knows how you have been a pawn in all of this and not a willing participant."

"Torture?"

Megan pulled the crime scene photographs from Jon O'Donnell's murder out and showed them to Becky. Becky looked on; eyes wide with horror. She knew that Shelly had killed these men but she had no idea how.

"Becky these men were awake when she did this to them."

Becky looked up as tears rolled down her face. She looked as though she was in shock and Megan wondered if she had pushed too hard.

"What do you want to know?"

* * *

Don had thus far had a fairly peaceful night. Colby knew that the psychologist had prescribed anti-anxiety medication and he was hoping that if he had a couple of good nights then the restraints could go away. He hated putting the wrist restraints to Don and he always waited until he had fallen asleep to fasten them. It seemed so wrong to treat him like a prisoner after everything that he had been through. Of course Colby understood why they were necessary.

He would never forget how Don looked when he tore off the VAC bandage exposing what seemed to Colby to be a gaping chest wound. He had not been there when Don was found nor had he seen him before he went up to surgery so the shock of seeing the damage that was done to him was still quite fresh in his mind. It was just after one thirty in the morning when he heard Don call to him softly.

"Colby?"

"Hey Don, you OK?"

"Yeah, can you let me up?"

Colby got up immediately and came over to the bed to untie the restraints.

"You need to go in there?" he said pointing to the bathroom.

Don allowed Colby to help him into a sitting position with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed before speaking. He took a moment more clutching the chest pillow to his front as the pain of the movement subsided.

"I want to apologize for last night."

"Hey you don't have to do that. I understand how you feel."

Don looked up at his fellow agent and said, "Yes I do, and no you don't. There is something that I want to talk about but…"

Colby pulled the chair he had been sitting on closer and sat down looking directly at Don. He looked worn and tired but his eyes held an intensity that he had not seen in the last few days.

"What is it?"

"This is between friends, Colby. It's not official."

Don waited for Colby to nod his understanding. As a gesture he reached over and turned the note pad that he was keeping is report on upside down so that the pages were covered by the clipboard.

"I know what you and Megan were talking about yesterday morning. I know what you think happened."

Colby shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's ok, if I were in your shoes I would have done the same thing. I know that how I acted last night was a clear indicator that something more was going on than I disclosed in my deposition. Well, you were right, in a way. It is what you think, and it's not."

Don took a deep breath before continuing. He knew that he had to get this out and that he wouldn't get past it until he did.

"In our job we deal with victims all the time. We empathize with them, we try to understand how they feel, but we don't understand. We think we do, we try to, but until we are faced with their actual pain we don't really have a clue. Not really. I understand how a victim feels now. I wish to God that I didn't but I do."

"When Shelly strapped me down she took away my power. I couldn't fight her; I couldn't stop her from doing anything that she wanted to me. The closest I came to controlling the situation was when I asked her to tell me about her parents. By distracting her I was trying to buy time but she wasn't distracted for long. There was nothing left for me to do except feel what she wanted me to feel. She effectively stripped way everything that makes me who I am. She made me a victim."

Don stopped talking for a moment. He was getting close to the truth but he didn't want to voice it. He knew he had to but the feeling of helplessness and violation returned so strongly that he needed a moment to get his emotions under control.

"She wanted to control me. I told Megan and that psychologist about her stroking my chest after she had torn my shirt open."

Another pause followed this statement. Don couldn't believe how hard this was.

"She didn't stop at the chest. She knew that I could do nothing to stop her. She wanted to control every aspect of my being and for me to know that she held all the power. I'm neither stupid nor naive. I know that I didn't do anything wrong and there is no reason to feel ashamed when my body responded to her touch the only way it could; the way it was designed to, but no matter how many times I tell myself that I still feel like my own body betrayed me."

Don stopped again as a wave of fierce emotion washed over him. He clutched the chest pillow to his torso and rocked forward as he tried desperately to stifle a sob. Colby didn't know what to say to Don. He was torn between a deeper feeling of empathy than he had ever felt and a boiling rage at what that evil woman had done to his friend. After a moment Don sat back a little and sighed.

"She saw the betrayal in my eyes, she knew that I had no control over what she was making me do; what she was making me feel. In her twisted mind she had won a victory that she felt was long over due. I refused to date her when I was at the academy, so she was going to show me that she held the power. I don't think she did that to the others. I have no way to prove that but I still know that what she did to me was something she had reserved solely for me."

"She got what she wanted and that's where it ended. She didn't undress me, she didn't need to. Once she was satisfied that she had humiliated me she picked up the scalpel and started to cut."

Don looked directly at Colby to make sure he understood what he was about to say.

"I don't want to talk about this with Megan or that psychologist. What happened changes nothing about the case and I don't want it on my permanent record that I was a victim in that way. Do you understand that Colby. This must remain private."

Colby reached out and put his hand on Don's shoulder before speaking.

"I won't say anything, Don; not to anyone. I'm glad that you talked to me about this. Maybe now you can start to put it behind you."

"That's the plan. It's just going to take some time and it looks like I have an abundance of that these days. So how did you get stuck with the night shift anyway?"

"I wanted to be here."

Don didn't know what to say. He felt tremendously grateful for Colby's presence. He knew that he could never have shared that moment with Megan or any of the other agents… well maybe David but certainly no one else.

"Thanks Colby. Now could you help me get over there?"

"Sure thing boss."

With Colby's assistance Don managed to stand up and take a few steps toward the bathroom. The VAC pump slid along the floor as Colby pushed it with his foot. Once they got the door open Don proceeded in but his gate was unsteady. Colby stepped into the threshold and reached for Don's arm to steady him.

Just as the door to the bathroom began to close behind Colby's back there was a crash as something smashed through the window. Colby turned and saw a dark object fly into the room and acted on pure instinct born out of active military experience. He spread his arms and covered Don's body as the blast blew the door off the bathroom threshold throwing him into Don with tremendous force and incinerating the room.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N-** terrashelties had a question about the plausibility of the victims sustaining consciousness while the villain performed a mediastinal sternotomy without there being a lung collapse. I went out on-line and did a bit of research and these are the things I found that support my assumption that the villain could do this:

Each lung is enclosed in a separate area within the chest called the pleurae or pleural sacs. The pleurae are the airtight membranes that cover the outer surface of the lungs and line the chest wall beneath the ribcage. If an object punctures the chest wall and allows air to get into one of these areas, the lung within that area begins to collapse. In order for both lungs to collapse, both sides of the chest would have to be punctured.  
The mediastinum is the interpleural space between the two lungs and is the region in mammals between the pleural sacs. It contains the heart and all of the thoracic viscera except the lungs. When a sternotomy is preformed the pleurae are not affected by the incision down the long axis of the mediastinum and therefore unless Shelly screwed up and tore the pleurae while she split the sternum apart the lungs should remain functional.

Terrashelties observation made me think and question the entire plot of this story. That is not necessarily a bad thing. This is one of the reasons that reader feedback is so invaluable to a writer. Your questions and observations help us to do better work and refine our research. So thank you for the question terrashelties, I appreciate it.

Please note that the fire sequence in this chapter was researched in two ways. One: My husband is a volunteer fireman and I went over the sequence with him. Two: I found an MDSR report that details the issues and procedures associated with a fire in a hospital where the piped oxygen is affected. See foot note at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

It was five minutes to two and Sarah Barken sat at the nurse's station thinking that she needed to get the hell off night shift. The sheer boredom was going to drive her absolutely buggy.

'_The closest thing to exciting that's happened is the cute, no scratch that, absolutely dreamy hunk of an FBI agent coming over to ask for coffee because he can't leave his charge, and would I mind finding someone who could bring a cup up to him.  
Would I mind? Man I'll brew it myself for you doll!'_

Sarah had practically jumped at the opportunity to get coffee for this guy. Maybe she could even get his number. She was incredibly curious about the reason he was here. Was it some sort of criminal mastermind that he was guarding in the room across the hall? She tried to get a look at the patient in the bed when she brought the coffee but the hunky FBI guy came to the door and wouldn't move out of the way. She did notice that the patient was restrained so she decided that it must be some sort of criminal.

'_Imagine that; a real live actual criminal right across the hall from me guarded by a totally babalicious FBI agent!'_

Sarah sighed. That was well over an hour ago and she was wondering if he might want more coffee soon.

'_God nothing interesting ever happens on nights!'_

She heard the sound of breaking glass coming from the room across the hall and got up to investigate. As she came around the corner of the desk at the nursing station she heard a loud bang and the door across the hall reverberated making her stop in her tracks. Within a second or two of that bang a powerful explosion rocked the floor and the door to room 466 flew across the hallway slamming into the nursing station desk right where she had just been sitting. The concussion sent her flying and she fell hard against the wall as a jet of flames shot out of the open threshold setting off the alarms.

Sarah sank down against the wall dazed, confused and more than a little frightened when a third explosion sent debris flying out of the room. Sarah covered her head with her arms as bits of wood and metal shot out across the hall. Something in her mind clicked into place and all of the R.A.C.E. training came flooding back to her in an instant. Thick black smoke started billowing out into the hallway and she knew that the third blast occurred as the hose attached to the piped oxygen wall outlet ruptured.

Now pure oxygen was feeding the fire and helping it to spread. The first order of priority was to rescue patients but as she gazed at the inferno that had become room 466 she realized there was no one to rescue in that room. She needed to alert other personnel and she started shouting.

"Fire! Fire in room 466! Help! Fire!"

She got up on her hands and knees to stay underneath the smoke as the other members of her staff came running down the hall. She knew that the next step was to try and contain the fire but there was no chance of doing that now. The next few minutes passed in a haze of confusion. There were screams and shouts, the fire suppression systems had kicked on automatically while tripping the circuit breakers for the unit plunging the entire floor momentarily into darkness before the emergency red lights came on casting an eerie glow everywhere.

'_The power's out! The monitors will all be off, the respirator for the woman in 458! Oh God!'_

Sarah looked to her staff. The second night shift nurse and three aides were all looking to her for instructions.

'_Well Sarah, you wanted excitement!'_

"We can't contain the fire. Maggie pull the alarm!" Sarah shouted pointing to the alarm just above the nursing assistant's head.

"Janice shut down the pipeline zone valves for this floor. Go now!" Sarah shouted to her fellow nurse.

"Julie and Margo start down the hall in that direction; get everyone out! Take them down to the ER for the time being. Maggie you and I will get the patients on this end of the hall out."

Alarms were sounding all over the place and the smoke was thick and choking her. She and Maggie had to get past room 466 which was a blazing inferno that the fire suppression system wasn't touching because it was being fed by the ruptured oxygen pipeline. Sarah spared a thought for the two men in that room.

'_They're dead, no one could survive that. I can't even get near the room.'_

She pushed those thoughts aside; she had to save the people that she could. She crawled on her hands and knees behind the desk of the nurses station instructing Maggie to do the same. The room door lay tilted against the desk and offered a modicum of protection from the intense heat from the blaze. They quickly made their way around the far side of the station and got up to evacuate the rest of the patients from the floor. Keeping crouched low they split up pulling beds from each room and wheeling them quickly down the hallway toward the elevators.

By then, security personnel and staff members from every other floor had come up to the fourth floor to assist in the evacuation. Turning the zone valves off had cut off the supply of oxygen to every other patient on the floor and some of these patients needed to be sent immediately to the emergency room. Sarah stood at one end of the floor triaging which patients rode down the elevator first while Janice did the same at the other end.

The fire department had been alerted automatically by the hospitals internal system and a second and third alarm went out when the head of the security force verbally called in the multiple explosions to the fire department. The evacuation of the affected floor and the floors above and below continued at a break neck pace. A majority of the patients were shunted down to the Emergency Department because it was the furthest away from the east wing of the hospital where the explosions had occurred.

When the head of hospital security saw which room the problem originated from he immediately called the number given to his staff if anything were to happen concerning the occupants of that room.

* * *

Megan drove to LA County General at close to eighty miles an hour. She called David and told him that there had been an explosion at the hospital and to get there as quickly as possible. She made it from her apartment to County in less than fifteen minutes and had to show her badge to get past the Fire Marshall who had declared the scene a hazard zone. He had ordered the evacuation of the entire wing of the hospital that was affected by the blast.

The initial two blasts had caused severe damage to the room of origin but it had also weakened the ceiling and floor and he was afraid of a structural collapse. Even though the pipeline zone valves had been shut down there was still plenty of oxygen getting into the room and feeding the fire. The initial explosion had not only blown the door to the room off it's hinges but had blown out the windows leaving a gaping hole in the side of the building allowing plenty of airflow to feed the fire.

Megan was not allowed to go up to the fourth floor and was feeling incredibly frustrated. She understood the danger but she had to find out about her people.

"I've got men up there! They were in the room where the explosion occurred!"

A tall fireman who had been directing his men turned to her.

"If you had men inside that room miss, there is no way they could have survived. Some form of incendiary device went off; it's the only way that the amount of damage could have occurred. I've got men up there on that floor; it's not safe for them let alone a civilian. I'm sorry but you can't go up there."

"But my men; I have to know!"

The chief turned away from Megan and spoke quickly into his radio.

"McGee, did you find anyone in that room?"

"Two survivors were taken down. They were in the bathroom connected to the room. Check with the ED!"

The fire chief turned back to tell Megan what to do but she had already taken off at a dead run for the emergency department.

With the sudden influx of patients evacuated from the east wing of the hospital that couldn't be put into unoccupied rooms in others areas the ER had transformed into pure pandemonium. Megan knew that Colby and Don would probably be in bad shape and she approached the nearest doctor showing her badge asking where patients injured in the explosion would have been taken.

With the state of near panic in most of the patients the doctor was wholly unimpressed with Megan's badge and he told her that she would have to take a seat in the waiting area for the time being. David arrived as Megan was about to lose her patience with the doctor and took her buy the arm pulling her aside. The doctor she had been speaking with moved off to help with a screaming woman covered in soot.

"Megan, what happened?"

"I don't know and no one is helping me to find our guys. All I know is that they were pulled out of the bathroom and brought down here."

David looked around for a moment as if to get his bearings. He had seen the hole in the side of the building and figured that if Don and Colby were alive they would probably be in critical condition. He saw a sign over an area near the rear of the department that read 'Surgical Acute'

"Come on, let's try down here."

With the controlled chaos erupting everywhere in the emergency department Megan and David didn't have too much trouble moving through the area. A couple of times they were stopped by staff but their badges allowed them to proceed. No one who stopped them knew anything about the men they were looking for so they proceeded to look in every room in the acute surgical area for their fellow agents.

"Megan! Over here!"

David and Megan had split up and were searching opposite sides of the subunit when David poked his head into a trauma room and saw Don. He was lying on his back; stripped down and covered up to his waist with a sheet. His hands and arms were covered in black soot from the fire and his face was covered in blood and grime. There was a resident suturing the back of his head while another doctor looked at x-rays of his skull.

The resident doing the suturing looked up when Megan and David came into the room.

"Hey, you can't be in here!"

Both of them pulled out their badges as they approached and Megan took the lead.

"This man is an FBI agent who was in the room where the explosion occurred. He's a patient in this hospital and there was another agent with him. Where is the other man?"

The two men exchanged glances and the doctor holding the x-ray stepped forward.

"Another man was critically wounded in the blast. He has been taken up for emergency surgery. I don't know much about his condition, only that he was critical and..."

Megan shot a worried frown at David before turning back to the doctor.

"His name is Colby Granger and he was on duty protecting Agent Eppes." she said pointing at Don. "I need to know what ever you can tell me doctor."

"What ever happened up there was pretty bad. I saw Mr. Granger briefly but was not assigned to his case. I am taking care of Mr. Eppes, but it looked like there was a lot of shrapnel damage. I can't be sure of anything but there was copious amounts of blood and it looks like he may have suffered some pretty bad burns. I don't really know because another doctor was taking care of him. He was only down here long enough to stabilize him for transport up to the OR. What I was told when they were brought down here was that when the firemen found them they were in the bathroom and Mr. Granger had used his body as a shield to protect Mr. Eppes."

Megan swallowed hard as she imagined what had happened and felt her legs weaken slightly. David reached out and put a steadying hand on her back.

"How is Agent Eppes?" Megan inquired in a slightly unsteady voice looking at Don.

"Mr. Eppes, hit his head on the sink and suffered a skull fracture. He has a severe concussion and there is a fair amount of swelling around his brain. I don't expect that he will be conscious for quite some time, at least not until the swelling subsides. He has second degree burns on his legs. The sternotomy incision on his chest is stable and we have reapplied a new VAC bandage. Mr. Eppes; excuse me Agent Eppes is an extremely lucky man. If the other agent hadn't shielded him he would not have survived the blast, not with his preexisting injuries."

"How can we find out about Agent Granger?" David asked.

"Go up to the surgical unit; use the elevator at the back of the department with red stripes on it. Take it up to the second floor and the intake desk is off to the right. I'm sorry about your other agent."

Megan had gotten her emotions under control and looked at the doctor and the resident working with Don.

"Has anyone else had contact with Agent Eppes?"

"Some of the nursing staff but it's been pretty crazy down here since the entire east wing has been dropped on us."

"Listen to me carefully. No one and I mean absolutely no one is to have access to this man. Do what you have to for him then get him ready for transport. As soon as he is ready to go, put a sheet over him and tell _anyone_ who asks that he died of his injuries, even any other FBI agents. The only ones who will know that this man is alive are the four of us in this room. Do you understand?"

"Transport to where?"

"I'll take care of that. I want to go and check on my other agent then we will be back down here to take care of the transfer personally. Oh and we will need EMT uniforms; one for each of us. Please have this ready as quickly as possible."

"That, I mean… I can't just…"

"Listen to me doctor; your ER is a mess because someone tried to kill this man. The safest thing for your patients is for that killer to think that he accomplished his goal. We will need an ambulance standing by. I know that this is a little outside of your realm of experience but I trust that you have the connections to get this done for me."

The doctor had gone very white but nodded mutely. Megan and David turned and left the suture room closing the door behind them before making their way to the elevators in the back of the emergency department.

The nurse at the surgical intake desk was completely flustered by the sudden appearance of two FBI agents showing badges and demanding information on a surgical patient.

"I'm sorry; I can't tell you anything about Mr. Granger. I understand what you are trying to say but until the doctor comes out of surgery there is really nothing I can do for you. I simply don't have the information that you need."

Megan was struggling for control of her emotions. Her normal response would have been a flippant remark but she was riddled with too much guilt to be sarcastic. Her ruling emotion at the moment was anger because it seemed that everywhere she turned tonight she kept hitting stone walls. David sensed this and tried charm on the young woman.

"Miss, I understand the position you are in. We are very concerned because a fellow agent was seriously wounded while on the job. We just need to know if he is going to make it."

"All I can tell you is that when Mr. Granger went into surgery, he was in critical condition. He had lost a lot of blood and they are still working on him. The on-call surgeon is Dr. Kendrick and he is one of the best surgeons I have ever worked with. It will be at least another couple of hours before Dr. Kendrick will be able to talk to you about your agent. I'm sorry but that really _is_ all I know."

David took out a business card with his cell phone number on it and handed it to the nurse.

"We have to leave but we are coming back. If the doctor comes out of surgery before we get back please have him call us right away."

The nurse took the card and smiled sadly at them. She could see that the welfare of their man was personal for both of them especially the woman. She hoped that the doctor had good news for them when he got done, but she had her doubts. The patient was in pretty bad shape when he was taken into the OR and they had already called down to the lab for more units of blood.

"I'll have him call if your not back."

Megan gave the nurse a wane smile and turned to leave with David following behind. They made their way back down to the emergency department and when they entered the suture room where Don was they found that the resident had left but the doctor remained. Don had been hastily cleaned up and moved to a gurney. He was covered in a couple of blankets with one balled up near the foot of the gurney covering the VAC pump.

Megan had to appreciate the doctor's thoughtful preparation. A VAC pump would be a little hard to explain on a corpse. There were two EMT jackets on the stool next to the gurney. The doctor picked them up and handed them to the agents.

"Jackets were the best I could do. There is an ambulance sitting out in the bay and the driver and crew are having coffee in the lounge right now. I swiped the driver's keys along with these jackets so you need to hurry before he and his crew finish their paperwork and want to head back out."

David and Megan both looked thoroughly impressed with this doctor. They took the jackets and put them on as the doctor took a large sheet and covered Don completely with it.

They maneuvered the gurney out intro the ED corridor and the doctor, walking a few paces ahead of them, led them to the ambulance bay. As the pushed the gurney through the door he mumbled, "Rig 224 on the far left." Then he turned abruptly and headed back into the ER without a backward glance.

It took Megan and David only a moment to get the gurney loaded into the ambulance and they were off into the night quickly before anyone noticed the theft of the rig. David was driving while Megan opened her cell phone and made a call to set up the transfer to Huntington.

They had already arranged an isolation ward for Don when they had planned on moving him before and those preparations were still in place. She had one contact at Huntington who would know the identity of the incoming patient but no one else would have any idea who he was. He was going to be listed as John Doe and the head wound would only serve to make that a more credible story. Once the arrangements for Don had been made Megan was very quiet while David drove.

"He'll be ok Megan, Colby's a fighter."

"I asked him to take the night shift. He was there because I asked him to be there."

"Megan if it hadn't been Colby it would have been someone else. He saved Don's life; you heard what that doctor said. Colby wanted to be there for Don, and with his background in the military I'm betting that his response reaction to that situation was probably a hell of a lot better than mine would have been. From what I saw when I arrived I would have to say that the killer used a RPG pointed at the window to the room."

Megan turned to David a little startled. "You think that a grenade did that much damage?"

"Not an ordinary grenade, but an RPG can launch several different kinds of rounds. It could have been a shrapnel grenade or even a high-impulse thermobaric weapon."

"A what?"

"Thermobaric weapons are nastier than conventional weapons because they use atmospheric oxygen, instead of carrying an oxidizer in their explosives. They are sometimes called fuel-air explosives or fuel-air munitions, heat and pressure weapons, or vacuum bombs. Bottom line is they produce more explosive energy for a given size than other explosives. The room burned up even after the fire suppression system came on. I saw that the fire department was using foam to put the fire out."

"Some thermobaric weapons work by first expelling a cloud of explosive mist using a small charge, then igniting it with a second charge. Basically there is a container of a volatile liquid or a finely powdered explosive. There are usually two separate explosive charges. After the munition is dropped or fired, the first explosive charge bursts open the container and disperses the fuel in a cloud that mixes with atmospheric oxygen. Once the fuel is appropriately mixed, the second charge detonates through the cloud."

"If they had been in that room…"

"They'd both be dead, no question. They were in the bathroom so I'm sure that the door offered the greatest amount of protection. The incendiary substance would not have gotten all over them or they would have gone up in flames like the rest of the room. This is all speculation but it seems the most logical explanation for what cause that kind of damage."

"What about Colby's injuries? It sounded like there was a lot of shrapnel flying around."

"A thermobaric weapon can also have a shrapnel canister or the device itself becomes the shrapnel. I would think that when we can get in there to examine the scene we are going to find that this was a custom weapon. The bathroom door offered protection from the fuel source but the second explosion, if there was one, could have turned that same door into lots of flying sharp pieces of wood or it could have shredded the door all together. We just won't know for sure until our forensics team can get in there. Who ever this assassin is; he knows his weapons. This was the best way to guarantee a kill."

"Only he didn't kill Don." Megan barked out a humorless laugh. "Thank God for Don's stubborn refusal to stay in bed. If he hadn't insisted that he be allowed to use the bathroom he would be dead and so would Colby."

David turned a corner and looked over at Megan.

"You know, we are breaking all kinds of laws here; grand theft auto for starters."

"Well, it's not theft if we're only borrowing it, but I get your point, we're going to need to wipe the rig down for finger prints and ditch it. I'd say we take it back to County but that might be a bit hard to explain. Let's just get Don safely transferred. I'll take care of getting him up to the isolation unit while you remove any evidence that we took this rig. When I come back out we'll start back toward County then ditch it. We'll have to take a cab back the rest of the way."

"What about calling Dan Hodges?"

"I don't want anyone else to know about Don. David, there is a leak in the Bureau. I don't like the fact that a hit took place on a supposed dead man."

"I get that, but we can trust Dan and there is also Charlie and Alan to consider. They are going to see the news tomorrow morning. There is no way to keep this from them. What are you going to tell them? We need at least one more person in on this, Megan."

"God, Charlie and Alan! Ok, you have a point. Call Dan when we get there. Have him meet us at Caldwell Park, that's where we'll ditch the rig."

David pulled into the ambulance bay at Huntington and they were met by a young woman dressed in scrubs.

"Hello agent Reeves. Is this our John Doe?"

Megan and David got the gurney out of the ambulance while Megan and the woman in scrubs wheeled it inside. David called Dan Hodges and gave him a brief run down of the situation then set about with alcohol and 4X4 gauze pads to wipe down every surface that they had touched inside the rig as well as the doors. He had just finished and when Megan re-appeared. He handed her a set of rubber gloves when she approached the ambulance.

"Here, put these on. Dan is on his way to Caldwell Park. How's Don?"

"Still unconscious; they are going to do another CT scan and send all of the reports directly to me. Lets get back; I want to check on Colby."

The strain in Megan's voice was evident and David sent a silent prayer that he was going to be all right. The last thing that they needed right now was another dead agent and he wasn't sure how any of them would handle the loss of another friend.

* * *

**Footnote:** The MDSR (Medical Device Safety Reports) article on Responding to Fires in Areas of Oxygen Use was my source material for the fire sequence. This article was published July 23rd 1994 and can be found at:  
world wide web dot mdsr dot ecri dot org slash summary slash detail dot apex?doc underline id8164 


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

It was nearly five in the morning before Dr. Kendrick emerged from the OR to speak to Megan and David. Colby was still in critical condition but the worst of his injuries had been patched up. The FBI forensics team had arrived and worked with the fire investigator on the scene.

David's assumption that a form of thermobaric weapon had been used proved correct. The devastation to room 466 and the adjoining room were nothing short of cataclysmic and it was a sheer miracle that the men had lived through it.

Megan found the doctor and the resident from the Emergency Department and reiterated that they remain silent about the true nature of Don's injuries. She signed a waver allowing her to take the body for an FBI autopsy, and had the doctor fill out a death certificate that would be filed officially with the hospital and the FBI.

After a through inspection of the scene and a quick conference with the forensics team and the fire investigators Megan, David and Dan Hodges left County General to go to the safe house. Megan told both Dan and David that she had already reported Don's death to their superiors and that only the three of them would have knowledge of his survival.

By seven in the morning the three of them were climbing the stairs to the apartment where Charlie and Alan were staying.

"Who's on the night shift?" David asked as they reached the landing to the top floor.

"I was supposed to relieve Bill Peterson this morning."

Megan stopped before entering the apartment and turned to the others.

"Let me handle this. I don't want to alarm Charlie or Alan if they are awake so we'll talk out here."

David and Dan stepped over to the other side of the hallway and waited while Megan knocked twice and waited for Agent Peterson to open the door. She heard him approach and pause for a moment while he looked to see who it was through the peep hole. After another moment he opened the door to let her in but she wordlessly motioned him outside of the apartment. She looked past the agent and saw that Charlie was hard at work at his white boards and wondered if he had gotten any sleep at all.

Agent Peterson stepped out into the hallway with a puzzled look on his face and when he saw both David and Dan the puzzled look turned to a frown.

"What happened?"

"There was an incident at County General last night. Colby Granger is in critical condition and Don Eppes is dead."

"What? I thought that Agent Eppes was already…"

"We reported his death publicly to protect him, but that obviously didn't fool anyone. The Eppes' will be moved today to another location after I tell them what has happened. Go home and get some rest, then report back to the office by two o'clock this afternoon. I'll brief the entire team then."

"It was a fairly quiet night here and I'm still fresh; do you want me to assist in the transfer?"

Megan frowned slightly at this question. Peterson should know better than to ask that but he quickly recovered.

"I'm sorry; I'm just shocked to hear about this and I want to help in anyway that I can."

Megan nodded to him and turned to Dan.

"Go on in with Agent Peterson, we'll come in when he leaves."

Dan nodded to Megan and followed Dan into the apartment. Megan looked at David, then back at the closed door to the apartment.

"Did anything seem off to you about that?"

David stared at the door that the agents had disappeared through and his voice held a hard edge when he responded.

"I could be wrong but Peterson's shock seemed contrived to me; and did you notice that he didn't ask about Colby; or if he was going to be all right?"

Megan stood there thoughtfully. "I did notice that. The first thing out of Dan's mouth when we met him at Caldwell Park was whether or not we had any news on Colby. Run a check on him David. Look into his financial records, cell activity and his home phone just to be sure. I don't want to go on any witch hunts; we don't have time for that but he warrants closer scrutiny."

Just then Bill Peterson came out of the apartment and approached his fellow agents.

"I just want to warn you that Dr. Eppes has hardly slept. His father was right about one thing, when he gets going on those equations of his he becomes oblivious to the world around him. How is Agent Granger doing? I mean I know you said he was in critical condition, but he's going to make it isn't he?"

"It's too early to tell. I'll know more when I brief the team."

Bill Peterson nodded and turned toward the stairs. The fact that Agent Peterson had called Charlie "Dr. Eppes" was not lost on her. Charlie always insisted that people call him Charlie especially if they were going to be spending any amount of time together. Megan rubbed her face as the fatigue of the night's events began to get to her. The fact that she had to go into that apartment and give this family more bad news made her feel ten years older but it had to be done.

'_Let's get this over with.'_

Megan and David turned toward the door and entered the apartment quietly. Charlie was busy at the white board and Megan took a moment to observe him. He looked very tired with dark circles under his eyes but he was moving with an almost frantic energy that seemed to consume his entire being. She walked over to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. It took Charlie a moment to snap out of his train of thought and turn toward her.

"Megan?" He looked around as if slightly confused. "What time is it?"

"It's almost quarter after seven in the morning. Have you been up all night, Charlie?"

Charlie looked down guiltily and mumbled. "Not all night. I got some sleep, a little."

Charlie looked up at Megan but something in her eyes made his heart constrict and he suddenly had no voice.

"Where is your father?"

With a monumental effort Charlie choked out, "Why? What is it Megan?"

Just as Charlie started to tremble Alan stepped out of the bedroom he was occupying and saw Megan, David and Dan. He knew something terrible had happened when he saw the look of terror on his younger son's face and he recognized the signs that Charlie was starting to have another anxiety attack. He moved quickly to his son and took him by the shoulders and turned him around to face him.

"Charlie! Relax now, and breathe."

Charlie tore his gaze away from Megan and looked into his father's caring eyes. He felt a little better just having that strong presence so near. He took a moment to control his breathing and force himself to stop trembling.

"Let's all sit down at the table." Megan began. "Don is all right but something happened that we need to discuss."

Upon hearing that his brother was all right Charlie visibly relaxed a little and walked a little unsteadily to the dinette table and sank down into a chair. Dan had started brewing a strong pot of coffee as soon as he entered the apartment and began to pour cups for everyone.

Once everyone had a cup of coffee Megan gave the Eppes men a complete update on everything that had happened since yesterday afternoon.

"There are several things I need to tell you. Yesterday afternoon we apprehended Rebecca Cantor."

Alan and Charlie both looked startled by this. They had both expected to hear some dire news and smiles crossed their faces that quickly faded when Megan didn't reciprocate those smiles.

"She didn't realize that the money that she was dropping off was to pay for a hit on you and Don. She thought that her cousin needed it to pay for an expensive lawyer."

"And you believed her?" Charlie practically shouted.

"Actually, yes, Charlie I did. Rebecca Cantor has been manipulated by her cousin ever since they were children. Remember that Shelly Arbury has a very high IQ while Rebecca is just above average. Once Rebecca found out that she was not responsible for her aunt and uncle's deaths when they were children her attitude of protecting her cousin changed rather drastically. Apparently Shelly has been holding their deaths over Rebecca's head all of these years and has skillfully manipulated her into believing that she essentially murdered them."

"She dropped $300,000 dollars into a locker at Union Station and that money was collected by Tommy Torpe, one of Anthony Saborgia's men. This and the incident last night are final confirmation that a hit has been arranged and paid for."

Alan looked alarmed now. "What incident?"

Megan sighed deeply and looked up at both Alan and Charlie. For the first time that morning they both noticed how tired and drawn she looked as though she had been up all night and Alan thought that she looked as though she might have been crying.

"Someone used an RPG to launch an incendiary grenade; a type of thermabaric weapon into Don's hospital room around two o'clock this morning."

"Oh my God!" Alan shouted as Charlie stood up so quickly that his chair toppled backward.

"You said that he was all right! People don't survive when exposed to thermobaric weapons!"

Megan wondered for only a moment how Charlie knew about such things before she remembered that he didn't just consult for the FBI. Charlie began pacing and wringing his hand together as his breathing started coming in short quick gasps. David got up and stopped Charlie from pacing and locked eyes with him.

"Charlie! Don wasn't in the room when the device went off. You need to calm down and listen to what we have to tell you. Charlie! Do you hear me?"

Charlie did hear David but it was difficult over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. Numbers and equations flashed across his mind. Blast ratios, heat signatures and flash points, the size of the room, the fact that it had piped oxygen that would feed the fire, all of these variables assaulted his over taxed brain and he started to feel dizzy. David guided him back to the table and into the chair that Dan had righted. Once Charlie has taken a seat and looked relatively calm Megan continued to speak.

"Don had gone into the bathroom with Colby's help at the time the grenade went off. The bathroom door and the fact that the bathroom wall separated them from the majority of the blast saved their lives. Yes we are pretty sure some form of thermobaric weapon was used…"

"But that can't be!" Charlie interrupted in a shrill voice. "If a thermobaric weapon was used they would be dead whether or not they were in the adjoining room. Thermobarics inject a fine, flammable mist into the air. Once ignited, the mist creates a mammoth fireball and pressure wave that's nearly impossible to avoid. The mist can travel around corners and into hidden crannies. Once the fire dies down, the mist sucks all of the oxygen out of the confined space. Those who manage to escape the thermobaric flames and pressure waves quickly die from asphyxiation!"

Charlie's voice rose as he spoke and he had a frantic gleam in his eyes. Obviously he had worked in some measure with these devices. David was impressed by Charlie's knowledge but in this case he thought that ignorance would definitely be bliss.

"Charlie, you are talking about weapons grade military devices. There are several levels and explosive grades to these weapons and you know that. What was used was an adapted or customized grenade. The oxygen pipeline ruptured and there was plenty of oxygen pouring into that room as well as lots of cross-ventilation from the blown out windows and door."

Megan reached out and took a hold of Charlie's hand to try and ease his quickly growing agitation.

"Are they all right; Don and Colby? Were they injured by this explosion?" Alan asked unwilling to wait any longer for the punch line.

"Colby used his body as a shield to protect Don. The door to the bathroom was splintered by the second explosion and broke apart. Colby was impaled by a sizable chunk of wood which destroyed his left kidney and caused other abdominal injuries. He also received third degree burns over thirty percent of the left side of his back shoulder and arm. He is listed in critical condition right now. As soon as he is stabilized he will be transported to Cedars Sinai's burn unit."

Charlie looked stricken by this news and his voice shook when he spoke. "And Don?"

"As I said Colby covered Don but the blast threw them to the floor. When they fell, Don's head hit the sink. He has a skull fracture, a serious concussion and second degree burns on his legs but Colby took the brunt of the blast and the heat from the fire."

Alan pounded his fist on the table in an uncharacteristic display of anger.

"How could this happen? Don was reported dead, we saw the news cast! That was to protect him wasn't it? All of this has been for nothing! Someone still tried to murder him. How is that possible, Megan?"

Megan looked at everyone in turn sitting at the table before she spoke.

"There is a leak in the Bureau so I made a decision last night. I stole an ambulance from County General and moved Don to Huntington. The only people besides the doctors who worked on him last night who know that he is alive are sitting in this room. I have already spoken to Assistant Director Merrick and told him that Don was killed in that explosion. This will likely end my career when it is all said and done, but at this point my only concern is keeping the two of you alive."

David sat shaking his head vehemently at this statement from Megan.

"You didn't steal that rig, Megan; _we_ did."

"No David! You have to be absolutely clear on this point. It was my decision and mine alone. You were simply following my orders." Megan again caught every person's eye before continuing. "No one outside of this room will know that Don survived that explosion. I am taking no chances at all with this."

"What about the people at Huntington; won't they know that Don is alive?" Charlie asked.

"He is listed as John Doe. They have no idea who he is. The intake sheet states that he was involved in an ambulance accident while he was being transported from one hospital to another. That would explain his pre-existing chest wound. The head injury and burns happened as a result of the accident. That is what everyone at Huntington thinks. Now because of this situation I can't have anyone watching him. His anonymity will have to be his protection. To put a guard on him would mean to tell others that he is alive and at this point I don't trust anyone outside of this room."

Dan had sat quietly during all of this but looked up sharply at Megan when she said that. He was pleased that she counted him trust worthy but he had grave concerns about the viability of this plan.

"Are you serious that you don't trust any of the other agents on the team?"

"Dan, listen. I trusted everyone who knew that Don was still alive and yet an attempt was still made on his life and I have a critically wounded agent because of that. The assassin knew which room he was in. They did this in the middle of the night when it was a sure thing that he would be in bed in that room. The only thing the killer didn't count on was a middle of the night trip to the bathroom or Colby's… quick response."

Megan's voice broke when she finished that last statement. She turned away from the table as a tear fell that she couldn't stop. Alan who was sitting closest to her reached over and put his arm around her shoulders.

"It isn't weakness to cry for a friend. Colby put the life of a fellow agent and a friend above his own survival. His selfless act saved Don's life. There is no shame in feeling grief for his injuries, it honors him."

That pushed Megan over the edge and she wept openly while Alan comforted her. After a moment however she collected herself and turned back to the others wiping her eyes.

"Thank you, Alan."

Alan nodded and squeezed her hand. "So what do we do now?"

"We move you. That is standard procedure after one witness has been killed if there is another under protective custody. This is where we have more problems. The mole will know about the move. All of the focus of the assassin will now be on Charlie. I have asked Dan to stay with you from eight in the morning to eight at night for a while. I'll rotate the people I think I can trust the most through the night shift, but we will still have to have two guards at a time; one on the outside and one on the inside."

"What about Don? You can't leave him defenseless at Huntington. You said he has a severe concussion right? That mean he's not even conscious. If someone tries again, he has no way to protect himself. What if the assassin doesn't believe your repost of his death again, what if he goes looking for a patient at other hospitals with Don's injuries?"

"Charlie, There is no other choice where Don is concerned. That is why I am falsifying all of my reports. That's why I had a false death certificate made up signed by the ED doctor who attended his wounds. That's why I committed grand theft auto. I have to focus on you now."

Charlie thought for a moment then said, "Give me your phone Megan."

Megan sat back stunned by the command in Charlie's voice. She mutely handed over her cell phone to the mathematician and watched as he dialed a number.

"Bob? This is Charlie Eppes."

"Charlie! I just got off the phone with Director Donaldson, I am so sorry about your brother. Are you all right?"

"You know about what happened last night?"

"It's all over the news! The name of the patient killed in what the FBI is calling a terrorist attack was not released but as soon as I saw it, I called Donaldson."

"Bob, listen to me. I need your help and I have no where else to turn."

"Anything Charlie, you know that."

"Don's alive…"

Megan almost reached across the table to take the phone from Charlie when she heard that but Alan stayed her hand.

"There is a mole in the Bureau and only three agents know about this. Everyone else believes he is dead. The problem is that he can't have any guards on him without telling more people that he is alive."

"I've got you covered there Charlie. I will need to speak to whoever is in charge of your brother's situation."

"Hold on she's sitting right here."

Charlie held the phone out to Megan who took it with a question in her eyes and a guarded look.

"Megan, Robert Thompkins, Director of the National Security Agency, would like a word with you."

Megan nearly dropped the phone but recovered quickly. She placed the phone to her ear and cleared her throat before speaking.

"Director Thompkins, this is Megan Reeves….  
Yes sir, we do…  
He is at Huntington Memorial in the isolation unit and he is listed as John Doe…  
Yes sir…  
No sir, I don't believe so…  
I will be at the office in about an hour…  
David Sinclair, Dan Hodges and myself…  
No sir, both Assistant Director Merrick and Director Donaldson have been given mis-information…  
Thank you, sir that will take a huge load off all of our minds."

Megan closed the phone and stared unbelievingly at Charlie. "Bob? You call the director of the NSA Bob?"

Charlie shrugged but had a satisfied look on his face. He knew that his friend would make sure that no one else came near Don. He wished like hell he could go see him, but he knew that the only way they would be together again was for this to end.

"When do we move?"

David was also staring at Charlie with a mix of humor and awe. "Go pack up your tings. Dan and I'll get these boards and your working supplies down to the van in the garage."

"I'll take my laptop. No offense but I don't even let Dad or Don carry that."

What Charlie didn't want to say was that he didn't want anyone, especially a friend, to stumble across what he was doing. He quickly packed up the spiral notebooks and laptop into his satchel and took them with him into the bed room he was using to pack up his clothes.

David looked to Alan and asked, "What's he working on anyway? He seems a little more high strung than usual."

"I honestly don't know David, but I have noticed his change in behavior as well. Of course he has never had to go into hiding before or had two attempts made on his brother's life or any of the other things that have happened during this nightmare so who's to say that this isn't perfectly normal."

It sounded to Megan like Alan was trying to convince himself more than David and again thought about the almost guilty look she saw on Charlie's face before. She had a feeling that he was up to something but she didn't have the resources to try and figure it out right now.

What she needed to do was to get the Eppes men moved to a new secured location, set up the surveillance on Don with the NSA agents that Director Thompkins was sending over, meet with the forensics team working on the explosion scene, check on Colby before calling his family to tell them what had happened, brief the entire team, find a leak in the department, and type up a whole host of falsified reports. She was in for a busy day.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N- **I am sorry for the delay in this chapter. For the issues with this story please see A/N at the end.  
This past weekend has been simply dreadful. My 5 month old son became very ill. The oxygen level in his blood dropped too low and he is now getting breathing treatments with a nebuliser and an oxygen mask every four hours. This process will continue for the next week. If he is still having difficulty breathing after all of this the doctor wants to put him on a steroid. I don't know what else to say. I'll do my best with the story, but I can't promise quick updates at the moment. My son needs me right now and he is my priority.

**Chapter Forty**

Megan wished that she could go with David and Dan to the new safe house location but she needed to meet Rebecca Cantor's father who was due to arrive at LAX in a little over an hour. The new safe house was in China town across the street from the Far East Plaza on North Broadway, so it wasn't particularly far from the office but not close enough to the airport for her to make both trips.

As she made her way toward LAX she tried to organize her day in her mind. First she had to pick up Tom Cantor from the airport and bring him back to the office to take a statement from him, but not before she called Colby's father to tell him about his son.

While she was making that call and taking Mr. Cantor's statement she would have Rebecca brought in from holding and allow father and daughter to confront each other. Once Rebecca had decided to cooperate she held nothing back. With her testimony Megan was sure that they would get a conviction even without Charlie or Don's statements.

Unfortunately once a contract had been taken and paid for there was no turning back until this whole thing was over and Megan privately wondered if it ever really would be over for the Eppes'. Even after the trial and Shelly Arbury's conviction there was still the matter of an existing contract out on their lives, but they would have to tackle that when the time came.

The NSA agents that Director Thompkins were sending to her wouldn't arrive until at least three in the afternoon. They weren't traveling on a commercial flight but the air time was still five hours. Then there was the matter of her reports to Assistant Director Merrick and Director Donaldson. Megan had never dreamed of a situation where she would be breaking the law, having fake death certificates drawn up and falsifying reports to her superiors.

'_Once this is all said and done I suppose I can kiss my career goodbye and maybe even my freedom.'_

She pushed those thoughts down; there was no time for that now. She had to put together a briefing for the entire team and set up an interview with the Cantor's and the DA. As she drove mulling all of these thought over her cell phone rang loudly startling her. She reached for it awkwardly as the slight adrenalin rush she felt subsided.

"Reeves."

"Hello, Agent Reeves, this is Dr. Kendrick calling."

Megan was instantly alert and she felt her stomach kick uncomfortably.

"Is Colby all right, Doctor?"

"He woke up from the anesthesia confused and agitated. He kept asking about 'Don' and if he was all right. I asked around the ER and found out that another agent was injured last night and died."

"Oh God, did you tell Colby that Don died?"

"No I said I didn't have any information on his case. This didn't sit too well with Agent Granger and he tried to get up out of bed; I assume to find out for himself. He soon realized that this was not even a remote possibility but he became so agitated that he disturbed the bandages over his burns. This caused intense pain and we had to redress the burns with fresh bandaging."

"I have contacted the plastic surgeon at Cedars and he wants Agent Granger transferred immediately so that he can begin to asses him for the appropriate grafting operations. The removal of his damaged kidney went well and I have cleared him for transport but I am concerned about his mental and emotional state right now."

"What do you mean, Doctor?"

"He is suffering from post traumatic shock, he is overwhelmed with concern for his friend, he is in tremendous amounts of pain and he is surrounded by strangers. He needs to have a familiar face to turn to right now. I would feel much more comfortable about his immediate transfer if there was going to be someone at Cedars that he knows, a friend or a family member. The pain involved with changing the bandages on third degree burns is staggering and he has no real support system at the moment."

Megan took the exit that she was about to pass and turned the car around.

"All right, Doctor Kendrick, I'm headed to Cedars right now. When will he be transferred there?"

"He is being prepped for transport right now, that's why I called. I'll tell him that you will be waiting for him when he arrives."

"Thank you for the call, Doctor. Please don't say anything to him about Don. I'll handle that."

Megan hung up the phone with Dr. Kendrick and sighed deeply. This day was quickly turning into a nightmare but she didn't have the luxury of letting that slow her down. She flipped open the phone again and dialed the office. Agent Matthew Hawkins answered the phone and Megan wasted no time delegating the tasks that had to be done.

"Matt, I need you to go to LAX and pick up Tom Cantor. His flight is American 1224 arriving at Gate 16 at 8:25. Also I need you to get me the phone number for Nicholas Granger. Look in Colby's personnel file."

"How is he doing?"

"His condition was upgraded from critical to guarded and he's being moved to Cedars right now, I'm on my way there."

"Is it true that Don Eppes is dead?"

"Matt… Yes. Colby doesn't know yet and I'm going to have to go talk to him about that when I get there. I'll brief the entire team this afternoon; look can you get me that number?"

"Yeah hang on a minute."

A moment later, Matt came back on the line and gave Megan the home phone number for Nicholas Granger as she hastily jotted it down on the back of a file she had sitting on the passenger seat. Megan quickly hung up with her agent feeling a bile rise in her throat with all of the stress and the things that she was doing. She didn't like telling _her_ people lies. Again she pushed those feelings away and dialed David's cell.

"Sinclair."

"David, as soon as you are finished there I need you to go to the Cedars burn unit. They're moving Colby right now. He's not doing so well and I may have to ask you to stay with him for a little while."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"David, don't get a ticket all right. Cedars is at least half an hour from China Town."

"I've got lights and sirens. I'll be there."

David hung up the phone with Megan and saw the worried looks on Alan, Charlie and Dan's faces.

"Colby is being moved to Cedars Sinai burn unit right now… He's…"

Alan placed a comforting hand on David's shoulder. "What is it David, is Colby all right?"

"He's having a hard time of it right now. I know a little about third degree burns, my best friend was seriously burned in a crack house fire when I was twelve. I'm going there now to stay with him for a while."

"Please tell Colby that we are all thinking about him, and call us later to let us know how he is doing. God! I feel so helpless! That man saved my son's life and I can't do anything for him."

"Mr. Eppes, Colby is a strong man, he'll pull through this. I have to go, but I'll call later."

Megan and David arrived at Cedars about the same time and met in the lobby of the hospital. Megan walked up to the front desk and showed her badge to the woman sitting there.

"One of my men is being transferred to the burn unit from County General. Could you please tell us where to go?"

The woman looked impressed and a little intimidated by the presence if two FBI agents standing in front of her desk. Cedars was a big place and it would be easy to get lost within the complex so she called out to a security guard standing nearby and asked him to sit at her desk while she escorted the agents up to the burn unit.

When Megan and David were taken up to the reception area for the unit the nurse there seemed to be expecting them.

"Are you agent Reeves?" she asked, Megan.

"Yes; has Agent Granger arrived?"

"The ambulance is just pulling into the bay downstairs. Dr. Kendrick called ahead and informed us of the situation with Mr. Granger. Please follow me; I'll take you to the room he will be placed in."

Within five minutes a gurney was wheeled into the room with Colby lying on his right side. Megan and David stepped back to allow the hospital personnel to move him from the gurney to the bed which elicited a weak moan from their friend. A nurse standing over Colby re adjusted his IV and smiled at him.

"You have visitors, Mr. Granger."

Megan and David stepped into Colby's line of sight so that he wouldn't try to move around too much and it seemed to take him a moment to focus on their faces. As soon as he registered who was standing in front of the bed he said one word.

"Don?"

Megan turned to the nurse that was still in the room hooking up monitors and adjusting equipment. Another nurse was pulling out a tray on wheels that contained three large bottles of fluid and a whole host of bandaging materials covered in sterile plastic.

"Can we please have a few moments alone?"

The nurses were surprised by this request but they quietly stepped out of the room. Megan reached over and took Colby's right hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"Don is fine. He hit his head when you both fell and cracked his skull, but Don Eppes has a pretty hard head."

Megan was trying to lighten the mood and Colby gave a wane smile.

"Listen to me carefully, Colby, the only people who know that Don is alive are David, Dan Hodges, Me and now you. Even Merrick and Donaldson think that he died last night. It was no accident that the killer knew exactly where Don was. We have a mole but I still don't know who it is and I'm not trusting anyone with this information."

"Who?"

"I don't know yet, but you can bet I'll find out. Colby, you saved Don's life last night. If you hadn't done what you did he would have died. There is no question about that. Right now you need to concentrate on getting well. Don't give the nurses a hard time all right?"

Megan smiled a little at that and Colby smiled back at her but the look of pain in his eyes belayed that smile.

"I'm going to give your father a call."

Megan saw even more pain flash across the young man's features but couldn't tell whether it was because of the burns or the fact that she had said that she would be calling his father.

"It's ok for me to call him isn't it?"

"Yeah, he'll want to know about this. I… it's just that we haven't… He might still be pissed at me."

Megan and David exchanged a confused look. Colby never thought that he would be talking to his co workers about this but he could see that an explanation was necessary at this point.

"He disagreed with my choice to leave the military and join the FBI. The last time we spoke… some pretty ugly words were exchanged." Colby's closed his eyes and grimaced in pain for a moment. "Go ahead and call him, he'll want to know."

Megan leaned over and kissed him lightly on the forehead which made his eyes fly open in surprise.

"David is going to stay here for a little while. You just rest and get better. I'll be back later to check up on you ok?"

Megan stood up straight and turned quickly to leave but paused at the door and turned back to David.

"Keep me informed. I have to get back to do the interviews with the Cantor's."

David could see the strain in her eyes and he could tell there was something else she wanted to say but before he could figure it out she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. She took a moment to lean against the wall and collect her thoughts. The nurse who was assigned to Colby saw her and cautiously walked up to her.

"Are you all right, Miss?"

Megan opened her eyes and looked at this nurse. "Take care of him." was all she said then she pushed herself away from the wall and walked purposefully down toward the parking garage.

Once in her car she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Nicholas Granger's phone number. Megan didn't know what to expect from this call. Given what Colby had just said she wasn't sure how Mr. Granger was going to react to finding out that his son had been critically wounded while doing his job. What she didn't expect at all was the reaction that she got.

Nicholas Granger cried when she told him what happened to Colby. He was obviously very upset about his son's injuries but at the same time he sounded very proud that Colby had tried to save the life of another person. He told Megan that he would be on the first flight out to LA and promised to be at his son's bedside by nightfall.

Colby's nurse walked into the room after Megan left and spoke quietly with David.

"I have been updated on Agent Granger's condition. Dr. Kendrick from County called and spoke with Dr. Simmes who will be taking over his care. We will be changing the bandaging in a few minutes and it would be helpful to Agent Granger to have you nearby. Dr. Simmes wants to evaluate his injuries and this will cause him a great deal of pain. We will be giving him intravenous opioids; both morphine and fentanyl. What we will have to do is get him into a sitting position because of the location of his injury. This is where you can be a huge assistance to him. If you support him from the front you can talk to him while the bandages are removed and the burns are cleansed. Even with the opioids he will still experience a great deal of pain and having a friend close by can be an enormous help to the patient psychologically."

David was more than willing to help but by the time it was done with he felt a little like they had both been through the ringer. After they got Colby upright David was given a stool to sit on so that Colby could lean against him. The doctor soaked the existing bandaging so that they could be more easily removed. David had to remind Colby to breathe. He never cried out during this whole process but he came close to passing out from hyperventilation a couple of times. David used the same technique with Colby that he had with Charlie to get him to slow his breathing down and relax.

Once Dr. Simmes had assessed the burns and scouted the right side of Colby's back for skin grafts he replaced the bandaging and scheduled the first skin graft surgery for early the next morning. He would have preferred to do it sooner but he felt that the Agent needed time to recuperate from his abdominal surgery first.

Once the new bandages were in place and they had laid Colby down again he quickly drifted off into sleep with the pain drugs dripping steadily into his system from the IV. Colby's nurse approached David and motioned him to step outside.

"I am very impressed with your coaching Agent Sinclair. You seem to have done this before."

"My sister used to get anxiety attacks and I just used the breathing techniques taught to us for that. Will he be in this much pain every time those dressings need to be changed?"

"For a while until the skin grafts begin to take hold, I'm afraid so. He will sleep for quite a while now so if you have to get back he should be fine now."

David looked in through the window at Colby and felt a fire burning in his gut. He would personally see that the son of a bitch who did this pays if it was the last thing he ever did. He thanked the nurse and gave her his card telling her to call him if Colby needed anything at all.

* * *

By the time Megan got back to the office she found a preliminary report on her desk from forensics. She did not have the same expertise in weapons as David or Colby so she grabbed the report and looked it over as she headed down to the lab for an explanation of their findings.

After a lengthy dissertation of the catalogued findings at the crime scene Megan held up a hand to the forensics tech.

"Tell me about the grenade."

The tech picked up shrapnel pieces and brought them over for her to look at.

"This device was custom made by someone who knew their weapons. The projectile had two canisters inside. One was filled with a fluid flammable material. I won't have the exact composition of that material for a few more hours. The second canister held thousands of tiny ball bearings."

He picked up a Petri dish and handed it to her. It contained miniscule round metal balls.

"When the munition initially exploded the canister of fluid burst and was dispersed in a fine mist that ignited with the secondary explosion which also burst the canister containing the ball bearings and sent them shooting through the room like tiny missiles.

The secondary explosion was far more powerful that the initial one and that is what caused the majority of the damage in that room."

"So was this a termobaric weapon?"

"Technically; yes."

"Explain 'technically; yes'."

"As I said this device was made by someone who knew what they were doing but didn't have access to weapons grade materials. That is a very good thing because if he had, then no one within ten yards of the blast would have survived."

With that report in her hand Megan made her way back to her desk before her meeting with Tom Cantor. It took nearly an hour to get as much information about the cousins growing up as she could. Tom and Louise Cantor had always had suspicions about the nature of the fire that killed Shelly's parents. Megan found it rather telling that when she reveled that Shelly admitted to murdering her parents Mr. Cantor didn't seem shocked or even surprised to hear this.

"Mr. Cantor, please help me to understand something. If you suspected that Shelly was mentally unstable, why did you allow her to live in your home and play with your daughter?"

"I could never prove anything. Shelly would act very normal around everyone including my wife and myself. My suspicions were not grounded in anything solid; it was more of a feeling than anything else. My wife wouldn't hear a thing about Shelly being anything other than her sister's perfect child. Louise had a emotional breakdown when her sister died and I was just doing my best to keep my family together and pick up the pieces. Please believe me Agent Reeves if I had any idea how truly dangerous my niece was I would never have allowed her to be near my family or my daughter. Becca's a good girl, but her cousin has always had an influence over her. I never understood that until I read Becca's letter. May I see her now?"

Megan had gotten as much information as she though she could from Mr. Cantor who also cooperated fully with her so she had him taken to a separate interrogation room where Rebecca sat in an almost catatonic state until she saw her father.

Mr. Cantor came over to his daughter and enclosed her in a father's embrace and she began to cry uncontrollably. They sat together like that for nearly an hour and Megan had to tear herself away from that scene. Thoughts of her own father flashed briefly through her mind but she pushed them away quickly. She would never feel that kind of embrace with the man who married her mother and was unsure if she even wanted to.

David had arrived back at the office and began his work doing a financial and phone records check on Bill Peterson. He was moving with a quiet determination and a stony look on his face. Megan was a little concerned and stepped over to his desk. Sitting on the corner she studied him for a moment when without looking up from his work David answered her unasked question.

"He will be having surgery tomorrow. They will take skin from the right side of his back to repair the burn on the left."

David was speaking almost mechanically but with a hard edge to his voice. He looked up then and Megan was stunned to see unshed tears glistening in David's eyes.

"The pain that he is in is unbelievable. Megan, there are two things that will happen." David lowered his voice to a mere whisper and hissed, "First we will find this mole and have him safely arrested before I get my hands on him, and second, I will find the hit man and make him pay for what he has done."

Megan understood his anger but she was a little concerned about David going rogue on her. She couldn't afford to lose one of the two other people who were not in the dark about this entire situation.

"David, keep it together ok? Revenge will not help Colby or Don."

David knew that she was right and he nodded curtly before returning his eyes to the screen in front of him. Megan squeezed his shoulder as she stood up to walk back to her own desk and prepare her falsified reports to Merrick and Donaldson. The phrase 'Tea pot calling the kettle black' entered her mind but she pushed it away as well.

As she sat down and began to type on her computer keyboard she thought about how full that space in her mind where she pushed unwanted thoughts was becoming and wondered if there was a space limit. With a humorless chuckle she turned her full attention to her work.

* * *

The meeting with the entire team at two o'clock went better than she had feared. Both director Donaldson and Assistant Director Merrick had shown up for it. Luckily neither of them nor any other member of the team realized that the entire proceeding was being taped. Megan had contacted the maintenance department and said that the video cameras in the conference room were malfunctioning and that they needed to check them out.

Once the maintenance crew stated that they seemed to be in perfectly functional condition Megan ordered that they run a test tape for the next hour just to be sure. Sound was not necessary only video. That was ten minutes before the scheduled meeting.

Megan and David planned on going over that tape very carefully to see if there was any unexpected or off reactions to the official announcement that Don Eppes was dead and that Colby Granger was in critical condition. The real kicker would not be the reactions to this announcement but to the statement that Megan and David had decided would hopefully shock the mole into action.

Megan stood before the entire FBI agent staff and looked at each person in turn before speaking again.

"I understand that many of you did not know that Agent Eppes was alive last night. The announcement of his death publicly was designed to protect him. As is evidenced by the attack last night at County General this move was ineffective. The killer found out that Agent Eppes was not dead as well as his exact location in the hospital."

Megan allowed the implications of that statement to sink in. She noted that many of the agents in the room began looking at their fellow agents as the thought that one of their own could possible have given up the location of their lead agent so that he could be assassinated. Megan didn't like having to sew this kind of distrust among her people but they had to know who the mole was. The look on Donaldson's face was pure fury at this tactic and Megan could tell that she was in for a through reaming out when this meeting was over, but she would deal with that when the time came.

She continued to give a full update on the weapons forensics and the finding outside the hospital in the parking lot. She reiterated that Charlie Eppes' safety was now their most paramount concern and that the capture of the assassin was the top priority of all agents not directly involved with Dr. Eppes' safety.

As everyone filed out of the conference room Director Donaldson stayed behind. Megan squared her shoulders and approached him prepared for what ever he was going to say to her.

"Agent Reeves, I want a full report on what you discover or what your suspicions are regarding the leak." He glanced up at the video camera in the corner then back at her. I could see a red glow on the wall indicating that this meeting was being recorded. I saw it because of my vantage point. I am not sure whether or not anyone else saw this. I have lost one of my best agents and have another in critical condition in the hospital. I want this mole found and if using unconventional methods is the only way to accomplish this end then I will support you fully when a reckoning must be made."

Megan stood dumbfounded by this response. The anger she had seen in Director Donaldson's face was that of betrayal not for what she was doing. David's investigation into Bill Peterson came up empty so that left them this tape to study. Megan breathed a sigh of relief when Director Donaldson left the conference room. Perhaps she might be able to keep her job after all.

**A/N -** I seriously considered going back and changing the last couple of chapters. As I did more and more research on burns of the magnitude that I gave Colby I started thinking that I had made a serious mistake. There is a whole other story that could be told in his recovery and the procedures that this character would go through to recoup from that kind of injury. After much debate and a couple of sleepless nights worrying about this I have decided to gloss over this aspect of the story because the focus is supposed to be on Charlie and Don.  
To give the proper attention to Colby's injuries would require a whole separate story. A "Colby's Story" This could be forthcoming, or maybe not. I haven't decided yet. Right now I need to finish _this_ story. For any Colby fans out there I do apologize but if I spend the amount of time that this tangent deserves this story will never find its logical conclusion. It would need to be a separate piece.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N- **This chapter is short. It was essentially unfinished but I wanted to put it up and to give you all an update on things.  
The baby was not responding to the nebulizer treatments and because the oxygen level in his blood was still too low on Wednesday morning the doctor put him on a steroid called Prednisone. It is now Friday morning and we are finally starting to see some results.

But you know how life goes, it aint satisfied unless you are being kicked when your down.  
I was laid off yesterday afternoon after giving unbelievable diligence and loyalty to this company I worked for. I was told point blank that I couldn't work evening and weekend hours because of my children. I have a rock solid discrimination case against this company but I am not going to bother suing them. Why would I want to sue for a job with an employer who so thoroughly abused my loyalty and trust?  
I'll be honest; when I had this happen some pretty unpleasant thoughts ran through my head, but I have three small lives depending on me and as a parent I don't have the luxury of giving up or feeling sorry for myself. As morose and depressed as I feel about this turn of events, I have no choice but to find a way to make it work or more importantly **_find_** work.  
As for the story; life is kicking me pretty hard right now so it will probably be a little while before I get back to it. I am **_very_** sorry to disappoint you. I **_will_** finish it, that I do promise. Once again I apologize for the brevity of this chapter but it's all I can manage at this point.

**

* * *

**

Chapter Forty-One

Megan and David spent the next hour viewing the video from the conference room. They both studied the faces and posture of everyone present including Director Donaldson and Assistant Director Merrick. Megan was leaving nothing to chance. A title at this point precluded no one from suspicion. She didn't really believe either the director or assistant director was the mole but the investigation a few years back netted zero results and she was not going to see a repeat of that this time. Someone was going to answer for Colby and Don.

As they viewed the tape Megan paid particular attention to Bill Peterson. David's quiet investigation had come up empty but she still had a wonky feeling about the man. Was he sweating a little more than he should be? The conference room was packed with FBI agents and it was warm and stuffy in the room. She had to admit that he didn't look anymore sweaty than his coworkers around him.

"David, what read do you get on Peterson?"

David studied the video closely, rewound the tape and looked again. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly shaking his head.

"He seems composed here, but then again he knew about this little incident before the others. He has had all day to figure out how to react to the bombshell you dropped in there. I have been looking at McPherson. He seems very uncomfortable. Look; see how he keeps fidgeting with his hands?"

Megan moved her focus onto Ronald McPherson. He did look uncomfortable, but he was also close with Colby. She remembered Colby talking about the fact that he and Ron were planning a fishing trip for later in the year.

"Isn't McPherson claustrophobic?"

David looked at Megan with a puzzled expression. That was something he was unfamiliar with.

"Is he?"

"I seem to remember reading that in his file. It caused some problems with his psych eval on his application to the academy, but he took desensitizing classes to conquer the fear and was allowed admittance. He rarely uses the elevator preferring the stairs. Maybe he is just uncomfortable crowded in the conference room, but run the same discrete checks on him that you did for Peterson."

"Ok I can do that, does anyone else strike you?"

Megan sat back and rubbed her eyes. "Quite frankly; no not really. This entire thing is giving me a headache. Look, we are both exhausted; we've been up since two thirty this morning. Let's look at this again tomorrow when we are fresh, but still do the checks on McPherson."

Megan leaned back in her chair looking out the conference room window and saw two men that she did not recognize walking toward her desk. They were both wearing brown suits that smacked of government officials.

"The NSA agents have arrived." she said, as she rose wearily from her chair. She stepped out of the conference room and caught the eye of one of the agents and motioned them to join her in the conference room.

They made a bee line toward her and quietly entered closing the door securely. Both men wore short cropped hair cuts. The taller one had jet black hair that laid flat against his head and almost black eyes that matched his olive skin tone. He stood easily six foot four inches and Megan found herself looking up into his serious eyes.

The other man was shorter standing only a mere six feet tall. He had brown hair that was tightly curled and cut short. Megan got the impression that if he were to let his hair grow it would be even more unmanageable than Charlie's. He had light blue eyes that held a hint of humor in them and looked to be the polar opposite to his partner.

The taller man stepped forward extending his hand to Megan.

"Agent Reeves? I'm Agent Polo and this is Agent Devon Wilson. Director Thompkins briefed us on your situation and we are at your disposal."

Megan shook the proffered hand and looked at both men in turn.

"Yes I'm Megan Reeves and this is Special Agent David Sinclair. Let's all take a seat. I'm sorry what did you say your first name was?" she said looking at Agent Polo.

Agent Wilson smiled broadly at this question. "Agent Polo doesn't like to give his first name." he said with a chuckle in his voice.

Agent Polo shot a withering look at his partner and David found himself smiling at this peculiar interchange.

"Why is that?"

Again Agent Wilson answered. "It's a little embarrassing."

David's curiosity was piqued now. "Why; it's not Marco is it?"

The deadpan look from Agent Polo and the barely contained laughter from Agent Wilson was answer enough. Megan and David dared not look at each other for fear of bursting out laughing. They didn't want to alienate these men after all; they had flown all the way from Baltimore to help them.

"My parents had an interesting sense of humor. I have actually considered legally changing it a few times."

Megan wasn't sure if this man was offended or just tired of hearing the same response to his name that he had undoubtedly dealt with his entire life. She was positive that he had endured more than a fair amount of flack over the years because of his name.

"Why didn't you?"

It seemed to David that Megan had asked a rather simple and reasonable question. Neither of the FBI agents, therefore, were expecting to hear Agent Wilson sharply call out,

"Marco!"

Both Megan and David turned to him with quizzical expressions only to have their attention quickly diverted back to the other man when he called out,

"Polo!"

For a moment it felt as though they were witnessing a surreal and oddly comical sort of verbal tennis match. This interchange took on the feeling of truly bizarre when Agent Polo said in a voice that seemed reflective and yet at the same time almost had a petulant tone, "But I like being the most popular guy at pool parties."

That was all it took to push both Megan and David right over the edge. They were so tired at this point that they both had some difficulty regaining their composure. Megan recovered first from her giggling fit and looked at Agent Polo mortified.

"I'm so sorry, we are both very tired and under a lot of stress. I really didn't mean to laugh at you Agent Polo…"

David cut in with his apology as well. "Seriously, we're both sorry. It must have been tough growing up with…"

Agent Polo's face broke into a wide smile which changed his entire appearance. He instantly looked like a completely different man; warm and inviting with humor showing brightly in his eyes as he laughed out loud and held up a hand.

"Relax; I am not at all offended. When we arrived you both looked like hell. As I said, Director Thompkins briefed us on your situation and it looked like both of you could use a little stress breaker."

David looked on incredulously. "You set us up?"

"Of course; yes my name really is Marco Polo and I actually like being able to use such a simple fact about myself to totally disarm people."

Agent Polo's face grew serious again. "Both Devon and I have worked with Dr. Eppes and along with Director Thompkins we are very concerned about him, and his brother. We were told that one other agent in your office is aware that Agent's Eppes' is still alive."

Megan and David both felt the shift in the conversation and sat up a little straighter. Megan automatically glanced up toward the window of the conference room to make sure that they were not about to be interrupted before speaking.

"Yes; Agent Dan Hodges also knows about Don and where he is, but that is all. I have falsified my reports to Assistant Director Merrick and Director Donaldson. I do not believe that they had anything to do with the attack last night but the bottom line is; we have a mole in the Bureau and I don't trust anyone at this point. What I'm looking for is a guard for Agent Eppes just to be sure that there are no more attempts on his life, but I'm not sure how we can accomplish that with only two of you. I need Dan and David working with me and manning the safe house that Charlie and his father are in."

Agent Wilson sat forward. "This will not be a problem; Marco and I will work rotating twelve hours shifts. We have both worked these types of hours on an extended basis in the past and as we said we are more than willing to do what ever is necessary to ensure the safety of the Eppes' family."

Agent Polo nodded in agreement with his partner and said, "We understand that the files on this case are classified information, but perhaps we could see the files on just the Eppes brothers. It would give us a better understanding of the situation. Director Thompkins was able to give us a brief outline of the problems you are facing but he had very little information himself on the details of this case."

"That would be fine; as a matter of fact it would be good for you to have some background on the nature of the trauma that Agent Eppes suffered. He currently has a severe concussion along with a fractured skull and is unconscious. When he wakes up he will most likely be disoriented and could compromise his own situation by disclosing who he is to the wrong person. As far as anyone at Huntington Memorial knows he is a John Doe. We want to keep it that way and you will need to be able to work with him when he wakes up."

Megan stood up to leave the conference room and get the files. After she had left, Agent Polo turned to David as he pulled a small package out of his suit coat.

"Agent Sinclair, this package is from Director Thompkins. Open it in a private place."

David reached out for the bubble envelope with a quizzical look on his face.

"What is it?"

"That is between you and Director Thompkins, Agent Sinclair. We were told to give this directly to you when no one else was around to see. I believe it has something to do with Dr. Eppes."

David saw that Megan was coming back from her desk and he smoothly pocketed the envelope. When she entered the conference room she got the distinct impression that she had missed something. She looked between the men sitting at the table feeling a little uncertain. She trusted David implicitly but she wondered what had just transpired between these men. She sat down again and handed Don's file to Agent Polo and Charlie's to Agent Wilson.

"I can not allow these to leave the office, I'm sure you understand."

"That won't be a problem, Devon and I will take about an hour to look these over and then perhaps you could take us to Agent Eppes?"

"All right; David and I have some work we need to get done. You should be fine in here. I'll come back and check on you when I have completed my reports from this morning."

Megan and David got up to leave the NSA agents to their reading and as the conference room door closed behind them Megan turned to David.

"What happened in there while I was at my desk, David?"

David wasn't expecting such a forward query and he didn't want to lie; not to Megan. He had been told to keep the package to himself but Megan had more than stuck her neck out in this situation and for him. She refused to allow him to share in the responsibility for theft an ambulance or falsifying any reports on Don's death. He was unsure what the Director of the NSA had to say to him but he was sure that what ever it was Charlie had prompted this somehow.

"I was given a package from Director Thompkins that I was told to tell no one about and that I am to open it privately."

Megan stopped dead in her tracks and stared at David. How is it that this was not something that she was to be trusted with? She thought ruefully to herself, _'Well; I'm not trusting anyone at the moment either.'_

"Do you have any idea what is in the package?"

"No clue, I certainly wasn't expecting to have any kind of direct communication with the director of the NSA. I am as puzzled about this as you are. What do you want me to do?"

Megan thought about that for a moment. "You were told to tell no one about this and to open it privately so do that. If you think that there is something that I should know about I'll leave it up to you to tell me."

David breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to be put in this awkward position and he was eternally grateful that Megan was not going to push the issue.

"Go to the men's room and do what you have to and then look into McPherson. I have to get the report on my interview with Mr. Cantor finished."

She turned toward her desk without looking back at David who immediately went to the men's room out in the main hallway on that floor. When he entered the room he checked all of the stalls to make sure he was alone then went back and locked the door. Moving over to the bank of sinks he pulled the envelope out of his jacket and carefully opened it. The bubble envelope contained a small cell phone, two notes; one addressed to him and one addressed to Charlie and a business card with a phone number handwritten on the back.

David pocketed the phone and the note to Charlie then opened the note addressed to him and read.

_Agent Sinclair,_

_I spoke to Charlie and asked him if there was  
anyone within the FBI that he trusted without  
reservation. He gave me your name._

_I want Charlie to have a secure means to  
communicate with me if necessary and I am  
aware that his ability to do that while in protective  
custody is going to be severely limited._

_The cell phone in this package is untraceable and  
will provide that secure means of communication  
for him, but it also has a locator chip imbedded in  
the Sim card. This is a precaution that I felt could  
become necessary. Do not tell Charlie about that  
chip or he will most likely remove it. _

_I am going to rely on you to contact me if there is  
any indication that Charlie or his family are in  
imminent danger. Devon and Marco are not the  
only agents that I have in the LA area. I have  
also put two agents on surveillance of the mob family  
that has targeted the Eppes brothers. These men  
are working on the premise that Dr. Charles Eppes'  
safety is a matter of National Security.  
This is at the moment unofficial until Director  
Donaldson asks me officially to help. I need you to  
be the liaison to me regarding this situation but  
you must keep this information to yourself at least  
for now. If it looks like the men under surveillance  
are about to make an attempt on Charlie's life  
these agents have instructions  
to contact Agent Reeves immediately.  
I have her cell phone number because Charlie  
used it to call me this morning._

_You will also find my card with my personal cell  
number written on the back.  
Please use this number if you need to contact me._

_Robert Thompkins _

David took the card and put it in his wallet then tore the note from director Thompkins up into small pieces before flushing them down the toilet. He would tell Megan about the NSA agents watching Saborgia but the rest he would keep to himself, at least for now.

As David made his way back to his desk he caught Megan's eye and she waited a few minutes until David was fully immersed in his work before getting up and approaching his desk. After disclosing the information he though she should know about he asked about doing the night shift at the safe house tonight.

"David! When were you planning on sleeping?"

"Once I finish with the project you gave me I'll go home and catch a few hours. I can be there by say nine o'clock."

"That's only six hours from now. No David; you need to go home and actually sleep tonight. If there is a reason that you need to see Charlie then stop by on your way home, but go home afterwards. That's an order!"

David understood why Megan was such a good profiler. She knew why David wanted to go to the safe house but she wasn't going to push him for answers. He had told her all that he felt she needed to know and that was good enough for her.

"I'm going to finish this report and then take our friends for a ride. Then I'm going to check on Colby. Have we heard from Mr. Granger? Do we know what flight he is coming in on, or if he needs a ride from the airport?"

"I haven't heard anything. Do you want me to check the incoming flights for his name?"

Megan rubbed her hands down her face. God she was so tired. "No; I gave him my cell number and asked him to call when he arrived. I'll just make sure I am available to pick him up when he gets in."

"Hey if you can't, just let me know ok?"

"Will do."

Megan made her way back to her desk to finish her own work while David set about investigating the financial and phone records of yet another of his collogues.

By four o'clock Megan was finished and went back to the conference room to check on Agents, Polo and Wilson. They were deep in conversation as they pored over the files and both wore grim expressions on their faces when she entered.

She could see the anger that they both felt reading about what was done to their consultant. She stopped mid-thought at that. It seemed strange to her to think of Charlie as anyone else's consultant although she knew perfectly well that he worked with several other agencies besides the FBI. What made her feel more trust for these men was the fact that they looked at this assault on Charlie as an affront to a member of their own family.

The ride to Huntington was long with the congested LA traffic. The NSA agents had little trouble following her through rush hour traffic as they were used to navigating the beltway around Washington that made LA traffic seem tame by comparison.

After a lengthy conversation with Don's attending doctor she was satisfied that his condition hadn't gotten any worse. He had undergone another CT scan and the swelling around his brain due to the skull fracture was still an issue although it did seem to be subsiding if only slightly. He had shown no signs of waking up and the doctor didn't feel that he would for several days. The incision on his chest was stable and the VAC bandage was doing a good job with the healing process. The doctor felt that it could be removed within four to five days time.

It was nearly seven thirty by the time she left Huntington to head out to Cedars to check on Colby. She had not received a call from Mr. Granger and was beginning to wonder if he was able to get a flight out to LA today. She considered calling him again but held off. She would check on Colby first.

When she arrived at the burn unit the nurse assigned to Colby told her she would have to wait for a few minutes because her patient already had a visitor. Megan was instantly alert and demanded to know who was with her agent.

"I believe it's his father."

Megan walked deliberately up to the door to Colby's room and looked inside. Sitting next to the bed was an older version of her friend. Colby was the spitting image of his father and she visibly relaxed. The nurse wandered off to continue with her rounds and Megan cracked the door open slightly undecided as to whether she should go in to introduce herself to Mr. Granger when she heard Colby's voice.

"Dad?"

Nicholas leaned forward and took his son's right hand. Colby was lying on his right side and looked to be in severe pain. He had been dreaming and moved his left arm causing the bandages to shift over the burn site.

"I'm here son."

"I… How long?"

"I have been watching you sleep for about half an hour. I took the first flight out as soon as I got the call from your Agent Reeves."

"I can't believe you're here. I thought… I… are you still mad at me?"

A sob escaped Nicholas Grangers control. "Oh, Colby, how could I be angry with you? I'm so proud of you. You have always lived your life honorably. Just because you chose to express that honor outside of the military, it doesn't change the man that you are. I should never have let so much time go without telling you these things, son."

Mr. Granger's voice trembled a little as he fought to maintain composure. "I love you, Colby and I always have. Can you forgive this old fool for allowing pig headed pride to stand between us for so long?"

Colby's voice sounded so weak that Megan felt her heart ache for him. This exchange between father and son was private and she should not be eavesdropping on it but she couldn't move as she listened to the voices of regret and forgiveness ring through the air. She couldn't help but think of her own father and the rift between them.

"I'm glad you're here, Dad."

Mr. Granger stroked his son's hair and whispered, "There's no other place I would be. Go to sleep my boy. I'll be here when you wake up."

Megan silently stepped back away from the door as tears ran down her face. It was time to get some sleep so that she was fresh in the morning. As she walked down the hallway to the elevators she vowed to herself and to Colby that the FBI informant would be found.

'_Maybe I'll leave the bastard alone for a few minutes with David. Then maybe I'll take a turn with him.'_

She shook her head as the elevator doors closed and said allowed to the empty elevator car, "No, I think I'll arrange a nice comfortable cell in the general population."


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two**

David wrapped up his project at headquarters finding nothing suspicious in McPherson's background. He was feeling as frustrated as Megan at this point. Someone was tipping off Saborgia and that someone had to be an agent. He looked through the financial records of all of the agents who knew about Don being alive after the press release last week. He came up empty again and found himself wondering if they were taking the wrong tactic in this investigation.

David hated having to delve into the private lives of his coworkers, invading their privacy this way but by the same token he was not about to let the mole get away with nearly killing two of his friends. He had to stop by the safe house in Chinatown to deliver the package from Director Thompkins and thought that he might ask Charlie for his insight about finding the Informant.

As he drove to the east side of LA toward Chinatown David began to doubt his plan to request Charlie's help. He was under enormous stress and this could throw him into an emotional tailspin. He wondered how Charlie was doing with the anxiety attacks. After the mild attack this morning he was not sure Charlie could handle any more stress heaped on him. David resolved that he would first talk with him about the anxiety before deciding to ask for his help in narrowing down who the mole might be.

When he arrived at the safe house he was pleased to see the watchful eyes of the agent placed in the restaurant below the apartments that the Eppes men had been placed in. He exchanged a slight nod with the agent outside before the man resumed drinking his tea and carefully eyeing everyone who approached or passed the building.

When Dan let him in he was immediately on alert because of the worried frown on his fellow agent's face.

"What happened?"

Dan glanced over at the far corner of the room where some portable screens decorated with writhing dragons had been put up effectively blocking off one third of the large living area.

"He hasn't come out from behind those screens except to eat and his father had to practically drag him out at lunch time. What ever he is doing it has engrossed him to the point of obsession. Frankly his behavior is worrying me a little; and Alan as well."

Just as Dan said this; Alan stepped out of the small kitchen when he heard the voices coming from the front room.

"David! Has anything happened?"

"No, Mr. Eppes, I came to talk to Charlie. How is he doing?"

Alan looked over to the screens with a worried frown.

"He isn't working on P vs NP, but what ever he is doing is starting to concern me a little. He said the he put those screens up because he was having trouble concentrating with Dan and me around in his line of sight and he mentioned something about his work being classified. Charlie has worked on classified projects before without worrying about me understanding what he was doing. And to be honest I can't imagine that he received a request at this time for a classified consulting job."

David thought about the package that he was here to deliver and wondered if maybe he had. There could be a lot more to this hand off than met the eye. He may actually be working on something for the NSA but David would have been very surprised to have that be the case. Director Thompkins seemed to be acting out of concern for Charlie and his family. It didn't seem to him to be an appropriate time to give him a new project to work on.

David stepped over to the screen and knocked lightly on the wooden frame.

"Charlie? It's David. Can I come in?"

David could hear furious scribbling from behind the screen but no answer from Charlie. David rapped louder on the frame making the screen shudder slightly.

"Charlie!"

The scribbling stopped and David saw the silhouette of a curly head pop up.

"Charlie, I need to speak to you privately, can I come in?"

David heard some shuffling of paper and the click on the mathematician's lap top being closed. After a moment Charlie poked his head out from behind the screen and found himself staring directly into dark brown worried eyes.

"Uh, hi, David. Is Don all right? Nothing happened to him did it?"

"No nothing happened. Charlie I have to talk to you… _privately_."

David lowered his voice when he said 'privately' and didn't give Charlie a chance to object when he touched the young man's arm and guided him back behind the screen. David quickly looked around the enclosed working area that Charlie had erected. There were post-it notes everywhere winding around the inside of the privacy screens like some sort of multi-bodied serpent. It looked strikingly eerie with the faint outline of the dragons painted on the other side showing trough the papery material that made up the body of the screen.

Each of the post-it notes had a series of numbers on them that looked like account numbers and currency amounts. David took in all of these surrounding with a quick glance then focused on his young friend. Charlie looked tired but his eyes held a distinct fire that he had seen before when he was working on a difficult problem. What ever Charlie was working on, he was thoroughly engrossed and he had that look that said he would not rest until he found what ever answer he was looking for.

That fierce gaze isn't what disturbed David; it was the haunted look behind the determination that struck him. Somehow Charlie looked frightened, not of his surroundings, but of something else only David couldn't quite figure out why. His instincts told him that there was more to Charlie's oddly manic behavior than simple stress or anxiety.

David glanced down and saw the trash can sitting next to the small desk that Charlie was using to hold his laptop and notepads. There were several waded up sheets in there and he thought he saw something small and white resting between a couple of the wads of paper.

Before Charlie could stop him, David seized the trash can and began to rummage through it. He quickly found two small white pills and pulled them out. Charlie objected and tried to pull the trash can away from David with a nearly panicked look on his face.

"David, what are you doing? Stop it."

David held out his hand showing Charlie the pills he had found.

"What am I doing? Charlie these are your anti-anxiety pills. What are you doing?"

Charlie looked at David defiantly poking his chin out for emphasis.

"They cloud my thoughts. I don't want to take them anymore. I'm an adult and I don't need anyone's permission to stop medication that I feel is not helping me."

"Look, Charlie, I'm not trying to treat you like a child; you know me better than that, but this isn't like you. This medication helped to ease the anxiety. This morning was the first attack you've had in how long?"

David couldn't hide the accusing tone in his voice. He was worried not only about Charlie but for his father as well. David wasn't sure the older man could take the stress of watching Charlie have repeated panic attacks with all of the other pressure he was under. Charlie turned away from David and started grabbing pages from the small desk.

"You said you wanted to speak to me privately. So what do you want?"

It was clear that Charlie wasn't going to talk so David dropped the pills back into the trash can and set it back down next to the desk. He pulled the package for Charlie out of his pocket and dropped it on the desk in front of him.

"Director Thompkins sent this for you. His agents arrived this afternoon and Megan has them watching Don."

David was about to tell Charlie that there were two other agents watching Anthony Saborgia but decided against it. He wanted Charlie to talk to him about this situation and decided to take a different approach.

"There was a note in there for me as well."

Charlie who had picked up the package turned quickly and started at David.

"You told Director Thompkins that you could trust me. I appreciate that but I'm not sure I believe it right now."

Charlie sighed and sunk down on the small folding chair in front of the desk.

"I do trust you, David. Look I'm sorry I snapped at you just now. I just don't want to take the pills. They make it harder for me to concentrate and right now I _need_ to concentrate."

Charlie seemed to be pleading for David to understand, but David wasn't going to be dissuaded so easily.

"Charlie what are you working on? What has you so wound up that you won't take this medication? Why won't you trust me now?"

"This isn't a matter of not trusting you. This is something that I have to do…  
That only I _can_ do."

Charlie waved a hand encompassing all of the notes posted all over the screens and the equations on the white boards set up in the corner of the work space.

"I can't explain what this is all about, but I need you to believe me when I tell you that it's something that I _have_ to do. As for the medicine, if I start having problems with the anxiety again I promise I'll go back on the meds. The anxiety would be worse for my concentration than the drugs so I _will_ do the right thing."

David once heard Don say that Charlie wasn't good at keeping secrets but he thought that this was a definite misconception on Don's part. Charlie seemed to house more secrets than were good for him. He conceded the fact that Charlie was not going to tell him what was going on. He wasn't taking the anxiety medication so he was even more hesitant to ask him about his investigation into the FBI informant. Charlie seemed to sense this internal conflict within the agent.

"There is something else, isn't there?"

"You seem pretty wrapped up in what ever it is that you are doing here Charlie. We can handle it without you."

"David, I know that you are not working on any new cases. Not with all of this going on so what ever it is has to do with _this_ case, so that means it has to do with me."

David pointedly looked around at Charlie's workspace. If Charlie could keep secrets then so could he. Charlie was a lot more perceptive than most people gave him credit for and he knew exactly what David was driving at. He did not want to tell anyone what he was up to, but he wanted to know what David was holding back. He looked directly at David and the two simply stared at each other waiting to see who would back down first. Finally after what seemed an eternity Charlie came to a decision.

"All right, but this stays between us. I want your word on that, David."

With a feeling of triumph David smiled. Perhaps he should try his hand at poker with Charlie again after this was over. He had not really believed that his tactic would work.

"You have my word, Charlie. I won't tell anyone."

Charlie eyed him warily.

"There is a contract out on our lives. No one has ever been able to make a workable case against Saborgia. We are in protective custody and I know full well that we are only one step away from the Witness Relocation Program. David, that might work just fine for Dad, but not for Don or me. Where would I go? I am too well known in the academic field to hide and Don is a federal agent. This has to be resolved here and now! Saborgia has to go to jail on a charge that will stick for us to be free from this."

David sighed because he and Megan had discussed this a few days ago. This situation was more far reaching than any of the Eppes realized, that is except for Charlie. He realized it; and was doing… what? Before David could begin to contemplate what Charlie was doing he continued speaking with an almost urgent tone in his voice.

"The Bureau has never been able to pin murder, racketeering, extortion or that sort of charge on Saborgia. Well, tax fraud is a charge that will stick and he could go to jail for a very long time."

"Charlie don't you think that the Bureau has tried that? We have had our forensic accountants trying to trace the money flow for years without success. He sends all of the illegal income through off shore accounts. They snake their way threw so many banking institutions and so many layers that it is impossible to follow."

David suddenly realized what he had just said. All of these post-it notes were positioned all over the screen forming snakes. Charlie was tracking the money in the unique fashion that he has. The FBI may have been working on this for a long time but Charlie had only begun and from what he could see the young genius had amassed far more information than any of the Bureau's forensic accountants ever had.

"How did you get all of this information Charlie?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter. We can't use this in court if we got it illegally."

Charlie slumped his shoulder a little. He was sure that David believed him but he hated being less than completely truthful with him. There was no way he could tell David what he really planned to do with this information. The agent would never allow it, but that didn't change the fact that Charlie still planned on doing this no matter what. If anything David's objections to what he had reveled confirmed the fact that if he didn't do things his way then this would never end for any of them.

Charlie bent his head down and David thought it was in dejection although Charlie was actually trying to hide his expression from the shrewd agent. He was not a good liar. His face was far too expressive and he knew that was a problem with him. That is usually why he refrained from speaking about something at all when he needed to keep it secret. That is why he had erected the screens. That is why he was going to great lengths to keep what he was doing private from his equally perceptive father. David placed a hand on Charlie's should startling him a little.

"All of this work that you have done could be useful though."

This was not at all what Charlie had expected to hear and his head popped up.

"What are you talking about?"

It was David's turn to look a little uncomfortable. He knew that Dan was in the kitchen with Alan and couldn't hear them talking but he still poked his head out from behind the screen just to make sure.

"There is an informant inside the Bureau. He or she is on Saborgia's payroll but I haven't found anything that ties one of our own to Saborgia. Have you found any money coming back to LA that doesn't go right back into Saborgia's coffers? It would probably be some amount that is consistent on a monthly or quarterly basis."

Charlie just stared at David for a moment. He was stunned that one of the agents that he had worked with, that Don had worked with and most likely protected could be responsible…

"Are you saying that this informant caused what happened at the hospital? Don is in a coma because of a fractured skull and Colby was seriously burned because an agent is sleazing information to the mob for money?"

"No one else would have known that the report of his death was false. Charlie, the assasin knew which hospital room he was in. The attack happened from outside in the parking lot which means that he knew right where Don was. That is the main reason you and your father were moved and why so few know where. Even the agents that are outside of this building don't know who is under protective custody. We have three different witnesses being protected right now and the only people who know that you are here are the agents who come up into this apartment."

An all encompassing anger began to fill Charlie and David saw this clearly in the hard set of the young man's jaw. He was still hesitant to ask Charlie to work on this but he had already done so much work that he didn't want to let it all go to waist. He also wanted to redirect his young friend's activities to a course of action that would be beneficial to them.

"I haven't finished my analysis yet but if there is someone on Saborgia's payroll I'll find them. I can guarantee that."

Charlie was serious about that promise. He still intended to finish his work and approach Alto DiBenedetto but he would pinpoint the mole that nearly killed his brother and Colby as well. This gave him more of an approachable means to continuing his work undetected. He could now simply claim that he was searching for the informant.

"Charlie, promise me that you will go back on the meds the next time you have an anxiety attack."

"I already told you that I would if they became a problem."

"No you don't understand me. It takes time for the meds to start working. You had an attack this morning. If you have even one more, Charlie I want you to go back to taking the meds. If you are going to work on this case with the Bureau then I have to be able to report that you are stable. You must promise me that if even one more attack happens you will stop cheeking the pills."

Charlie looked up at David. He could see the concern in his face for him, but he also saw that the agent was dead serious too. David would tell his father that he was throwing the medication out and then he would have no peace. His father could be very determined when he thought he was helping his sons.

"All right; I promise."

David stared at Charlie for another moment before he stepped over to the opening of the screened enclosure. He pointed at the package held loosely in Charlie's hand.

"Call me on that cell if you come up with anything."

Charlie frowned in confusion for a moment then looked at the package that he was holding and that David was pointing to. He nodded to the agent who stepped out and walked over to the kitchen to join Alan and Dan. Charlie turned the bubble envelope over and opened it. Inside there was a small cell phone, a charger and a note addressed to him.

_Dear Charlie,  
__This phone is secured and you can use it to  
contact me directly if you need to. I sent Marco  
and Devon out there to help with surveillance  
for your brother. _

_Agent Reeves has kept his situation a closely  
guarded secret. I have spoken to Director  
Donaldson and he believes that your brother  
is dead. I offered NSA assistance to him again  
and he said that he would get back to me by  
the end of the day. With the death of one of his  
best agents he will probably take me up on that offer. _

_I am very concerned about what you may or  
may not be doing. I have gotten the impression  
that you are going to try and resolve this situation  
on your own. Do not do this. I am not sure what  
you have in mind, but these people are very dangerous.  
As I said last time I do not want to lose you,  
especially not to foolishness._

_I have two agents watching Saborgia.  
They will inform me and Agent Reeves if there appears  
to be a threat to you or your brother. _

_Please contact me for anything that you need. Please  
take caution in what you do and be smart. Don't  
take risks that are unnecessary. _

Bob.

Charlie folded up the letter and slid it into his jeans pocket along with the small cell phone. He had no intention of taking unnecessary risks, only the ones that he _had_ to.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N - **A few of you have asked about the baby and the job front. Adam is doing much better now. He is still not completely over this yet but he is a tough little guy. (he gets that from mommy) I am not having much luck on the job front. It's a tough market at the moment.  
I'll do my best to get this thing wrapped up fairly quickly. I had a little dilemma with this particular chapter but now that I have sorted it out it should be pretty straight forward from here on out.

**Chapter Forty-Three**

Director Donaldson called Megan into his office the next morning to inform her that he had formed an inter-agency alliance between the FBI and the NSA.

"Agent Reeves, please understand that this is not a reflection on your ability to lead this investigation. Robert Thompkins, the director of the National Security Agency, has offered his people as man power to supplement the efforts of our agents in protecting Dr. Eppes. Apparently Dr. Eppes is deeply involved in a project with the NSA and Director Thompkins has classified his safety as a matter of national security."

The apologetic look left Director Donaldson's eyes as he continued with a bitter tone in his voice.

"The fact that we have a leak somewhere within the Bureau has compelled me to seek assistance from outside. This is a fact that grates on my nerves and is an overall embarrassment to the Bureau. What progress have you made on finding out who this informant is?"

Megan was not happy to report to her superior that they had made no progress at all. She and David had viewed the conference room video again earlier that morning and could not detect agitated or nervous behavior from any of the agents that would draw suspicion on them. In fact almost everyone in that conference room clearly showed expressions of remorse at the news of Agent Eppes' death and shock at the announcement that there was a mole within their ranks.

Megan had hoped to shake up the informant by making a general announcement that one of their own had leaked information as to the whereabouts of Agent Eppes but the informant was either not present at the meeting or was able to hide their emotions effectively enough to not give themselves away.

"David and I are still working on the investigation of the Bureau agents. We do not have any leads yet."

"Who do you suspect, Agent Reeves?"

Megan looked hard at the director and answered truthfully.

"_No one_ is above suspicion at this point, sir. I promise you that we will find the person responsible no matter what it takes."

Donaldson saw the fire in her eyes and had no doubt that she meant every word.

"Very well, please keep me informed of your progress in this matter. You will still be leading the investigation into finding the informant as well as tracking down the assassin who murdered Agent Eppes, but…"

Megan's head snapped up at the 'but'.

"The protection of Dr. Eppes and his father will now be fully under the jurisdiction of the NSA. After I spoke with Director Thompkins last evening he sent a team of six agents who should be arriving within the hour. The team will meet with you after they land in LA to be fully briefed on the details of this case. From that point forward you are to concentrate solely on finding both the informant and the assassin. Is that clear Agent Reeves?"

Megan stood stock still. She had promised Don and Charlie that she would keep them safe and now she was being pulled off the case. Their protection was falling into the hands of another agency. The logical part of her mind understood why this was happening but her emotional side resisted it.

"Agent Reeves, you said yourself that _no one_ was above suspicion. Again I am not accusing you of negligence concerning the protection of our witnesses, but the fact remains that Agent Eppes is dead, Agent Granger is in critical condition and Dr. Eppes is our only remaining witness against Shelley Arbury. His safety must take precedence here. I understand that you have taken almost every agent out of the loop where Dr. Eppes is concerned, but as you said no one is above suspicion. I don't like handing our witness over to another agency any more than you do but I will do what ever it takes to keep him safe."

Megan pursed her lips and nodded curtly.

"I understand, sir. I am pleased that the NSA is available to help in an official capacity. I am aware that Charlie is a close personal friend to Director Thompkins…"

Donaldson's eyes brows shot up at this statement.

"… and that he has worked on classified projects for the NSA. As much as I hate to be pulled off this, I agree that this measure is the safer course of action."

"I don't have to like it however." Megan added, under her breath but Donaldson heard it.

"I don't like it either. As you well know there has always been a political rivalry between government agencies. This situation is an embarrassment to the Bureau and I want it resolved. We need to show that we can clean our own house before the NSA or Homeland Security or any other federal agency is put in the position to do it for us. Do you understand what I am implying Agent Reeves?"

Megan understood exactly what the Director was implying. She did not believe that it would come to that, but it would be an enormous political gain to have the LA Bureau absorbed by another agency that comes in to clean up the mess. She had no intention of standing in the unemployment line because of a traitor in her ranks.

"I understand, sir."

"Good, now get to work."

Megan walked out of Director Donaldson's office and decided to step outside for a moment to clear her head before going up to the office to make copies of the case files for the incoming NSA team.

She and David had spoken about Charlie and the fact that David had asked for his help in narrowing down who the informant might be. Megan was not pleased that he had done this but in retrospect she realized that it was probably their best bet to finding the informant quickly.

If Charlie could use his expertise to find the mole then that would prove that the LA office was still able to function even under adverse circumstances. Donaldson looked unnerved by the events that have transpired. The investigation that occurred a few years back was before his time and had seriously damaged the department's credibility, a creditability, that Don Eppes had a large role in restoring with his successful investigations.

Megan had just finished putting together her briefing materials when Assistant Director Merrick stepped over to her desk.

"Are you ready for the new team?"

Megan looked up at Merrick and felt a twinge of annoyance at having to turn Charlie and Alan's protection over to the NSA team. Merrick also had a sour look on his face and while Megan had never really felt an affinity toward the Assistant Director she now found herself feeling a kinship in their shared distaste for the necessity of this strategy.

She picked up the folders that she had put together for the NSA team and quietly followed Merrick to his office. When they entered and closed the door behind them Megan found herself looking at six very official looking men. Most of them were fairly large and held serious expression on their faces. The smallest man there stood out in contrast to his counter parts not by the fact that he was easily six inches shorter than any of the others but by the fact that he held himself with confident authority.

This man stood in front of the group and the body language from the rest of the men in Merrick's office showed deference to the smaller man. He stepped forward and extended his hand to Megan.

"Good morning, Agent Reeves. My name is Theodore Niagara. This is my team."

He turned and pointed to each man individually as he spoke.

"Agents Robert Paxton, Healy Marsdock, Jessup Parker, James Tyler and Matthew Warner."

Agent Niagara turned to his agents and instructed them all to find seats. Megan passed out the files she had made to all of the agents then proceeded to brief the NSA team about the case of the FBI killer. Now that the inter-agency collaboration was official, Director Donaldson had instructed Megan to allow the NSA team full access to the details of the case.

The briefing took the better part of two hours with Megan doing most of the talking. She answered any questions that the new team had concerning aspects of the bombing and released all of the forensics that they had thus far. The lab was still running tests on the shrapnel from the grenade so the full forensics report was not ready yet. She closed up the meeting by stating that she would take them to the safe house where Charlie and his father were being kept.

Agent Niagara sat quietly and listened to the briefing, read the case file and allowed his team to ask all of the pertinent questions. He reminded Megan of a military general observing his men in action, but when a command decision came up he stepped in smoothly.

"Agent Reeves, thank you very much for bringing us up to speed on this case. From this point forward we will handle all of the details concerning the Eppes' security. We do not need an escort to the safe house, and as a matter of fact we need you to pull your agents off duty before we arrive."

Megan looked at this man incredulously.

"But without someone they know, Charlie and his father will not go anywhere with you. They don't even know about this change of venue yet!"

"Dr. Eppes and I do know each other, Agent Reeves, we have worked together before. He will trust me. It will take us twenty to thirty minutes to get to the safe house in Chinatown from here. I would like you to contact your people in fifteen minutes and have them vacate the premises. This is a necessary security precaution given the fact that there is an unknown informant within the FBI."

Suddenly Director Donaldson's words echoed in Megan's head and she felt less sure about this inter-agency cooperation.

'_We need to show that we can clean our own house before the NSA or Homeland Security or any other federal agency is put in the position to do it for us.'_

"Dr. Eppes' safety is our main priority and that means that no agent within the Bureau will have knowledge of this move, including you, Agent Reeves."

Megan felt as though she had been slapped in the face. She was still the lead agent on this case and as much as she understood why the NSA team wanted to keep their aspect of the operation classified, it stung to be included in their suspicions. Merrick was livid about this as well.

"Agent Niagara, you will not stand here in MY office and speak to my lead agent as if she were a suspect in this investigation!"

Megan fully understood at that moment why the other larger men who had arrived with Agent Niagara gave him so much respect. He stood up from his seat in one fluid motion and stepped directly up to Merrick. He was a full head shorter than Merrick but the fierce look in his eye actually made Merrick back up a step. When Agent Niagara spoke his voice was level and calm but it also held undeniable authority.

"Assistant Director Merrick, I appreciate your loyalty and trust in your agents. As leaders we need to know when to trust our people and let them do their jobs. But as leaders we must also be able to make decisions that can be considered harsh. I do not suspect Agent Reeves of any wrong doing. That is not my function here. My job is to protect Dr. Eppes from an assassination attempt. I am unknown to your field personnel and have no way of judging who I can trust and who I can't, and therefore I choose to only trust my team. As a leader I know that you will agree that this is a necessary measure and that you would do no differently were our positions reversed."

Megan stepped forward and literally stood between Merrick and Agent Niagara. This was not difficult to do for as Niagara spoke Merrick moved back another step away from the man. She was not trying to challenge him but she wanted this enigmatic agent to know that she was not intimidated by him the same way that Merrick seemed to be.

"I will contact my people in fifteen minutes. You have the address in the file. I want you to know that Dr. Eppes… Charlie is not just a witness. He is _our_ consultant and an important member of this team… _my_ team as well as my friend. If his safety is going to be taken out of my hands you need to understand that if anything happens to him, _I_ will hold you personally responsible."

Megan and Niagara stared at each other for a moment. Niagara liked this woman and he respected her conviction. He knew that she had meant that she would come after him if his team failed to keep Charlie alive and that she didn't trust his life to someone who wasn't emotionally invested in his safety. He could have easily viewed her comment as a threat and he was certain that it was meant to be one but he chose instead to ease her misgivings.

"Three years ago Charlie saved my daughter's life. He is not just a witness to me, or to my family. I volunteered to take this assignment and I will not let anything happen to him."

Megan studied this man's eyes and could see that his concern was genuine. She wondered briefly what Charlie could have done to save the life of this man's daughter, but she didn't question that he had indeed done so. She may not like the fact that Charlie's safety was being taken out of the Bureau's jurisdiction and in effect hers, but now she was satisfied that he was in good hands with Agent Niagara. She nodded and walked quietly out of Merrick's office.

* * *

Charlie and Alan were completely taken off guard when Dan announced that he had been ordered to leave the apartment. Charlie stepped out from behind his work area with an almost frightened look on his face.

"You're leaving? Why? Who is replacing you? What's going on?"

Dan looked somewhat unnerved as well. "Your protection has been taken out of the hands of the FBI."

Alan and Charlie spoke at the same time with shock and alarm echoing in their voices.

"What!"

"Why?"

"Megan just called and said that a team of NSA agents is on its way here. You two need to pack up your things. I guess they are going to move you."

"Oh my God, did something happen to Donnie?"

Alan looked suddenly pale and he sunk down onto the couch as his knees gave way.

"No, Alan. To the best of my knowledge Don is just fine and safely hidden with two agents watching him on a 24 hour basis. These orders came from Director Donaldson."

"It's because of the mole isn't it?"

Alan turned to his son frowning. "Mole? Charlie what are you talking about?"

"Someone in the FBI told the mob that Don was alive and what room he was in at the hospital. That is why it was attacked and why Don and Colby are in the condition they are in. The Director of the FBI must have decided to take Bob up on his offer to help and has turned over our protection to the NSA."

Alan was able to follow that line of reasoning but he didn't like that Dan was leaving before the other team arrived.

"Ok, so why do you have to leave right now? Shouldn't you be here to verify the identities of these NSA agents?"

"Megan said that Charlie could do that. Apparently he has worked with the team leader. The NSA team wants all of the FBI agents to vacate the premises before they arrive."

"I don't like this." Alan grumbled, as he got up from the sofa. "I supposed you have no idea where we are being moved this time?"

"No, sir, but I think that's the whole idea."

Alan and Charlie said their goodbyes to Dan and while Alan started putting their clothes together Charlie began to clear up his work space. By the time the NSA Agents arrived, Charlie had almost finished compiling his data into neat stacks so that he could get back to work once they were settled again in yet another safe house.

Charlie was the one to look through the peep hole in the door when the knock came and his eyes opened wide in surprise. He threw the door open quickly and smiled.

"Trip! Bob sent you?"

Charlie stepped back and allowed Agent Niagara to enter the apartment followed by two other NSA Agents.

Alan came out of the bedroom carrying two suitcases and set them down on the floor. He looked to his son with caution in his eyes.

"Dad, this is Theodore Niagara, Trip. We have known each other for what…? Three years now?" Trip nodded in acknowledgement. "Trip this is my father, Alan Eppes."

Agent Niagara stepped forward and extended his hand in greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, sir. I wish it were under better circumstances."

"So, Agent Niagara, where are we going now?"

"Nowhere; well in actuality we will move you to a vacant apartment on the back side of the building; basically across the hall from here. Now we suspect that this building is being watched. They expect us to be moving you so that is what we are going to have to do."

At this point Alan was completely confused. Were they moving or not? Seeing his confusion, Agent Niagara pulled a curly wig out of a bag that was being held by one of the other agents and placed it on his head.

"Charlie and I are about the same height and build. I will need some of your clothes Charlie and your father and I will be taking a little trip."

Just as he said this the front door opened up and two other agents stepped in.

"Healy! Jess!" Charlie exclaimed.

The agents walked over and clapped Charlie on the shoulder. "Hey ya, Charlie."

Alan was smiling at these men a little awkwardly. He was relieved that Charlie seemed to know these men or at least three of them very well, but the situation was far from clear to him.

"Agent Niagara, could you please tell me what is happening here?"

"I'm sorry, sir. You see if this building is being watched by the informant then he or she is expecting us to re-locate you and Charlie. We are not actually going to do that. We will move you across the hall, but we have to keep up the illusion for the benefit of the spy. So I am going to impersonate Charlie. Then Agents Paxton and Tyler will accompany both of us outside in clear view of all the surrounding buildings and into a waiting van out front. Agents Marsdock and Parker who came up the back stairs will stay here and help Charlie get everything moved over to the other apartment."

"But won't who ever is watching notice that three came in and only four are leaving?" Alan asked, as he tried to envision this little charade.

Just as he finished this statement another man knocked on the door and stepped into the apartment and Agent Niagara turned to Alan with a smile on his face.

"No, because there will be five of us leaving."

Trip had Alan empty the suitcases that he had packed onto the couch and instructed Charlie to fill his satchel with frying pans from the kitchen to give it the same heft that it would have if he had packed up his lap-top and notebooks.

Trip changed into a pair of Charlie's jeans and his favorite Cal Sci tee shirt. Once he had the wig on and a pair of sunglasses no one from a distance would have been able to tell that he wasn't, in fact, Charlie.

Alan wadded up the sheets from their beds and shoved them into the suit cases and within twenty-five minutes of their arrival Trip, Alan, Robert Paxton, James Tyler and Matthew Warner were ready to leave. Trip turned to Charlie and saw that he was chewing his lower lip nervously. It was clear to the man that the young genius was worried about his father.

"Hey Charlie, don't worry. Your dad will be back by this evening."

* * *

The first real break in the case came from The FBI forensics laboratory. They were able to find traces of DNA on the fragments of the incendiary device used to blow up Don's hospital room. After running the DNA sample through CODIS they came up with the name Benjamin Pretoria.

He was an ex-Special Forces Navy Seal with explosives expertise as well as top scores in marksmanship. Lieutenant Pretoria was dishonorably discharged after a scandal involving a 14 year old girl in Baghdad who was reportedly raped by three American service men.

Pretoria was the only service man positively identified by the victim. The fact that she had been raped brought shame to her family name and she had been beaten severely by her father and brothers. The Jag defense lawyer used the fear that the girl had of further reprisals from her family to get her to withdraw her identification of his client.

The prosecution had a strong circumstantial case but could not imprison him without the girl's testimony. Due to the political pressures of the war and the nature of the crime the Department of Defense and the Justice Department decided to make an example of Pretoria and he was dishonorably discharged.

Megan had his picture faxed out to every LA area police department as well as every other field office within the tri-county area. David contacted Robert Thompkins with the new information and faxed the sheet on Pretoria to him. If the men he had watching Saborgia caught sight of this man they needed to contact the FBI immediately.

Megan had attempted to get a search warrant for Saborgia's residence to search for Pretoria or any evidence that he had been there. What she was given was an open warrant that stated that if direct evidence, such as a photograph of Pretoria on the premises, was found or produced then the warrant would be legally valid.

David and Megan also hit the streets talking to every snitch they knew trying to locate where the man might be hiding. The airports, bus stations and train stations were also given his picture with contact information directly to the FBI if he was spotted.

Agent Mark Hawkins had been out in the field when the information about Pretoria was disseminated so he was unaware that anything had changed when he came into the office early the next morning.

As he sat down at his desk sipping his coffee he began to flip through the new memos. When he got to the picture of Benjamin Pretoria he nearly dropped his. He got up quickly and raced over to Megan's desk with the sheet in hand as well as the note book from his watch at County General.

Hawkins threw the face sheet on Pretoria in front of Megan and said, "This guy was at the hospital dressed as a janitor. It was in my notes… hang on let me find it."

Megan waved David over to her desk as Agent Hawkins flipped through the pages looking for the entry.

"Ok here it is. It was a couple of days before the attack. I was sitting outside the room and I saw this janitor come down the hallway. He cleaned up a bathroom a little ways down the hall. He looked over at me as he passed but I didn't think that much of it because it is odd to have someone sitting on a stool outside of a patient room. Look here is his description."

Mark handed the note book over to Megan who glanced it through, then showed it to David.

"Christ, this is my fault. If I had questioned it better. This is the guy that killed Don! God damn it, I…"

Agent Hawkins sank down into the chair next to Megan's desk and buried his face in his hands.

"Mark, this isn't your fault! Look I read your report, I cleared it. You even wrote right here that his picture ID looked worn and kind of old, like it had gone through the wash a few times. There was no way for you to know that this was the assassin scoping out the room. Look, this brings a new light to this situation."

Mark's head popped up. He still had a crest fallen look about him and was obviously feeling partly responsible for Agent Eppes' death, but he also had a curious look in his eyes. What did this information change?

"We have been working under the assumption that an informant within the Bureau gave the location of Agent Eppes to Saborgia. If Saborgia decided that the press release about Agent Eppes' death was false then it would make sense to have the hospital checked out to see if there was anyone being guarded. If Pretoria scoped out the room number this way it could mean that there isn't a leak after all."

"What can I do to help find this guy? I want Pretoria!"

Megan pulled a file off her desk and flipped it open. "Ok here is the fact sheet on Pretoria. He has certain weapons preferences and these are the ingredients used in his homemade thermobaric weapon. Start running down these suppliers. See if he has made any interesting purchases lately."

Mark too the file and stood up. "I'm on it."

Megan turned to David and pursed her lips. "Keep researching agent backgrounds and financial records. You have a way to contact Charlie?"

David looked cautiously around to be certain no one was near by and nodded.

"Good, see if he has come up with anything. I'll tell Merrick and Donaldson about this and let it sort of spread that there might not actually be a mole after all. Maybe he'll let his guard down if he thinks we've given up the search."


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N - **We are getting close to the end. It will be after the holiday before I can get the next chapter up, but it will be worth the wait. All of the real action happens in the next chapter.  
There are only a couple of days left to vote for your favorite stories in the FF Numb3rs Awards so after you read this go vote for all of your favorite stories and authors.  
Happy Easter Everyone.  
Alice I

**Chapter Forty-Four**

As the van carrying Alan, Trip and the others left the safe house in China town they decided to take a winding course through the streets of China Town before heading south down to the Japanese Village. After snaking through the narrow streets there the van turned north once again and took the most round about way that was conceivable up to the Twin Towers Correctional Facility.

Alan started to feel a little nervous as they pulled up to the guard house of the parking structure. As a city planner he had actually worked on this facility and was familiar with it.

The Twin Towers Correctional Facility is a unique complex built on ten acres of land with buildings that contain just under one and a half million square feet. The facility derived its name from the fact that it consisted of two towers, a medical services building, and the Los Angeles County Medical Center Jail Ward. The towers house maximum security inmates and a large portion of the county's mental health inmates.

"Why are we here?"

Trip didn't answer Alan as he leaned over Agent Warner who was driving to hand some papers to the guard who checked the papers against something he had on a clipboard. The guard leaned his head into the driver's side window to look at everyone in the vehicle then asked for everyone's identification. All of the agents pulled out their NSA identification badges and Trip asked Alan for his driver's license. The guard took these documents and stepped back into the small guard house at the gate.

He made a phone call and was obviously reading off all of the names of the agents and their ID numbers. After a few moments he reached into a drawer and pulled out two sets of keys then stepped back out to the van and handed back the papers, the ID's and the keys.

"Go to level four and park in slot 428 B-side. There are two black Cadillac Escalades with tinted windows waiting for you."

Agent Warner thanked the guard and proceeded into the parking structure. Once he found the parking spot that he had been assigned to, he pulled in and parked before turning and handing one of the sets of keys to Agent Paxton. They all got out of the van and Trip took the suitcases and Charlie's satchel and tossed them into the back of one of the Escalades

Alan looked at the vehicles with an approving nod. "The NSA likes to travel in style."

Trip looked at Alan and a slow smile spread across his lips. "Well, these are just loaners, but they _are_ nice. The main reason for these; are the tinted windows that also happen to be bullet proof."

Alan suddenly found himself looking around nervously, but Trip stepped over to him and reached up to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I seriously doubt anyone will be taking a shot at us anytime soon. If we were tailed here, which I don't believe we were, then the mob hit man will be sourly disappointed to find that you and Charlie have been moved to a maximum security facility. There would be no way for them to get at you if you were really staying here."

Alan frowned at the agent and asked the obvious question. "So why aren't we staying here?"

"This facility doesn't have guest accommodations, and I don't think you want to be surrounded by maximum security prisoners and mentally unstable inmates."

Alan had to grin wryly at this. In retrospect it seemed like a rather foolish question. Trip turned his attention to his agents.

"Bill you and Jim contact Rodgers and Webber and take over the surveillance on Saborgia. They need to report back to Headquarters for re-assignment. Matt and I will head over to Huntington so Matt can take over for Polo and Wilson."

"You know about Donnie?"

"Yes we know about your older son. We can not justify the fact that there are ten agents working in Los Angeles so our team is taking over all aspects of this operation. We'll rotate through the different shifts. There will always be two agents on Saborgia and with you and Charlie. We will all rotate through shifts at Huntington to maintain a guard for Agent Eppes… Don."

"We're going there now? I can see my son?" Alan couldn't keep the hope out of his voice.

"How long has it been sine you have seen Don, Mr. Eppes?"

"Too long!" Alan replied, with a wide and eager smile.

It had only been five days but it felt like an eternity had passed since he and Charlie had left the hospital with Megan to go to the first safe house. Alan thought about all that had happened over the course of those days that had brought his family to the place they were now. He had to remind himself that when he saw Don he would be unconscious with a skull fracture and probably look far worse off than when he saw him last, yet even that realization did not dampen his excitement at finally being able to see his boy; to look at him and touch his face.

The drive to Huntington was made in silence as Alan sat deep in his own thoughts. Neither Trip nor Matt spoke; feeling the need to give the elder Eppes a few minutes introspective peace.

Alan found it difficult to wait patiently outside Don's room at the isolation ward desk while the NSA agents spoke quietly. He could just see his son through the large glass window from the desk and all he wanted to do was go and see him. After what seemed an interminably long time Trip, Matt and an agent that he did not know stepped out of Don's room and came over to him.

"Mr. Eppes, Let me introduce Agent Polo. He and his partner have been keeping watch over Don the last couple of days."

Alan shook the tall man's hand and said, "I thank you deeply for taking care of my family. I can never repay you for taking care of my boy, but I do appreciate it."

"There is no need to thank me sir. Both my partner Devon and I were more than willing to come and help. You will be happy to know that the doctor told me this morning that Don has shown some signs that he could wake up soon. He had a CAT scan this morning and the swelling because of the skull fracture has decreased significantly so they are hoping that he will regain consciousness soon."

Alan turned to Trip with determination in his voice. "I want to stay here until he wakes up. Your people know where the safe house is and I will go back after my son regains consciousness. I do not want him to wake up surrounded by strangers."

With that Alan walked passed the agents and stepped into Don's room without looking back at them. Trip stared after the older man and sighed before looking back at Marco and Matt.

"I can see where Charlie gets that stubborn streak."

The other two agents smiled as they looked toward the hospital room door.

"I seriously doubt that there is anyway I am going to get Mr. Eppes to leave until his son wakes up, so Matt I'm going to need you to call me when he's ready to go. Marco you and Devon have to get back to Baltimore. There have been some new developments concerning the Barabbas file."

Agent Polo raised his eyebrows at that statement.

"I'll go collect Devon and we'll be on the next flight out."

"Go to the hanger, there is a plane waiting to take you, Devon, Rodgers and Webber back to Baltimore."

"I'm on my way. We never even got a chance to see Charlie. How is he holding up?"

"He looks beat, but other than that he is doing fairly well."

Agent Polo nodded and turned to leave. Matt and Trip stepped over to the door of Agent Eppes' room and peered inside. Alan had pulled up a chair beside the man's bed and was lightly stroking his hand while speaking to him. They stepped back and Trip gave final instructions to Matt before heading back to the car.

When Alan entered the room his heart jumped at the sight of his oldest son lying so still. He had a large pressure bandage wrapped around his head. He had an IV line in each arm and the soft whirr of the VAC bandage seemed to fill the quiet space of the room. He pulled up a chair so that he could sit next to his son's bed and lifted his hand into his own.

"Oh Donnie, I am so sorry that you have been through all of this. I miss you terribly and I want you to come back to me now. Can you wake up for me son?"

Don didn't answer but he must have been dreaming for Alan could see his eyes moving under his closed lids. Alan realized that Don wasn't going to just wake up because he wanted him to, so he sat back still holding his son's hand and kept his vigil. He spoke to him in a soft voice; talking about the times when he and his brother were young. He reminisced about Don's years playing baseball, and how much he missed all of them together as a family.

Agent Warner poked his head silently in the door and listened for a moment to the older man's soft litany of memories before stepping back out into the ward and taking a seat at the isolation desk.

There were four isolation rooms in the unit and all of them formed a half circle facing the unit desk. There were two nurses stationed at the desk but they paid no mind to the NSA agent. They had become used to their presence on the ward. None of the staff knew who the man they guarded was. They had been told that he was listed as a John Doe and that his true identity was known only to the men watching him.

The hospital administrator had approved this man's transfer from where ever he had come from and had given strict instructions to the entire isolation staff to keep quiet about their mysterious patient. The first two days that he was there they spoke in whispers to each other about who this man was, each speculation more incredible than the last but they had finally tired of their curiosity and settled down to the routine of caring for him and working around the guards assigned to him.

When Trip arrived back at the safe house Charlie was already hard at work behind the screens that they had moved over from the front apartment. Charlie was alarmed when Trip entered without his father and Trip had to explain quickly where Alan was and that he was all right. Charlie had started to hyperventilate when he didn't see his father but quickly got himself under control. Trip was concerned by this behavior and without knocking he followed Charlie behind the screens of his work area.

"Charlie, what's going on with you?"

Charlie hadn't expected him to follow him and spun around quickly at the sound of his voice.

"What do you mean? I'm fine."

Charlie sounded a little too defensive and Trip focused on his young friend.

"Charlie, you had a rather overblown reaction to me walking in without your father. You automatically jumped to the conclusion that something had happened to him without taking into account my calm demeanor. You are acting in an illogical manner and that has me somewhat concerned. Charlie, you're not acting like yourself, so what's up?"

Charlie rubbed a hand over his face and sat down.

"The last couple of months have been kind of stressful. So many terrible things have happened that I feel like I am in a perpetual state of waiting for the other shoe to drop."

Charlie hesitated for a moment, unsure how much he wanted to reveal to his old friend. That is when it suddenly occurred to him that Trip _was_ his friend. He had been so secretive lately that a part of him felt like he was losing his true identity. He didn't lie to his friends and family, but he had done a lot of that over the last few days. He sought out help when he needed it because it was the most logical way to solve a problem but he had been shutting everyone out so that he could move ahead with his plan alone and unaided. He made a decision at that moment to tell his friend what he could and hoped that it might relieve some of the pent up stress that had been bogging him down.

"I have been having a problem with anxiety for quite a while now; ever since this case started actually. The attacks got to the point that I had to be put on medication, but I stopped taking it."

"Why, Charlie? Wasn't it helping you?"

"It worked well for keeping the anxiety attacks mild, but the medication clouds my thinking. I am still working on this case. My father does not know this nor do most of the agents in the Bureau. David Sinclair and Megan are the only ones who know what I'm doing here."

Trip looked around Charlie's work space seeing the strings of post-its snaking along the privacy screens. Like David he got an odd feeling that the post-its were a strange apparition of the dragons painted on the other side of the screen. They seemed to form several different winding lines that were connected at one end and seemed to branch off into several different directions at the other end. Some of the winding lines had tributaries that stuck out almost as if they looked like appendages of some weird multi-bodied serpent.

"What are you doing here, Charlie?"

"I'm trying to find the FBI informant. I can't afford to have my thought process clouded at this point. I need to find this answer and find it quickly before anyone else gets hurt."

"Charlie, I want you to listen to me now. The FBI no longer has anything to do with the protection of you or your brother. The informant can't leak information that he doesn't have access to, so you don't have to stop your meds. You will still find the answer Charlie, I have no doubt of that but if the medication helps to keep you calm then start taking it again. Besides if you don't I'll tell Bob Thompkins."

Charlie looked startled by this last statement. It almost sounded like a childhood sort of threat. 'I'm telling Dad on you!' Charlie understood the implications of what Trip had said, however.

Bob Thompkins had stuck his neck out to help Charlie and apparently Trip realized this. The agents that were here now were here in an official capacity, but the four agents who had been working for the last few days out here had been 'under the radar' and Bob would have to explain that at some point. If Charlie was purposely not taking care of himself after Bob had done so much for him it would be poor payment indeed to a friend who was there for him when he needed him.

"All right Trip. I'll go back on the meds."

* * *

It was nearly seven o'clock in the evening and Alan had dosed off while sitting next to Don's hospital bed. Don slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the florescent lights above him. He had no idea where he was or how he gotten there. He raised his hand to his head and felt the heavy bandage covering it and noticed the IV line taped to the back of his hand. He thought back to the last thing he could remember.

The memory came to him slowly as if he were peering through a gossamer sheet at something hidden behind a scarcely transparent veil. He remembered talking to someone… Colby. He was sitting on the edge of a bed… a hospital bed talking to Colby. What had they been talking about? He couldn't quite remember.

A woman, they were talking about a woman, but it wasn't a good memory. This woman was bad, she had hurt people… she had hurt him…

It was as if a burst of flame had flared and burned up the veil covering his memory. With a crashing jolt everything came back to him. The case… The FBI killer… Charlie…. She took Charlie… She abducted him… She used a knife and cut open his chest…

Don brought his had to his chest and felt the VAC bandage there. Shelly Arbury had done this to him, but she had been arrested. She had mob contacts. She arranged a contract to have Charlie and him killed. Colby was keeping guard over him and they got up and walked to the bathroom. This was where things started to get fuzzy. Don had the strong impression that something drastic had happened. He remembered a loud sound and a concussion of force slamming into the back of him but after that it was a complete blank. Colby was behind him… he must have been protecting him from something.

"Colby!"

Don hadn't even realized that he had said the name aloud until he heard his own raspy voice. There was movement at his side and he turned his head. His father was sitting beside him.

"Hey there; you're awake."

His father looked worn and tired. He looked so much older than he had when Don had last seen him. When was that? Don realized with a surge of panic that he had no idea how long he had been unconscious or what had happened since the lights went out.

"Dad, where am I? Where's Charlie? Where's Colby?"

"Whoa, slow down, son. You're at Huntington Memorial. Charlie is fine and still at the safe house. How are you feeling?"

Alan had purposely not mentioned Colby. He wasn't sure that his son needed to deal with that just now.

"How'd I get here?"

"Megan and David had you transferred over here a few days ago. You took a fall and cracked your skull pretty badly. You have been unconscious for three days now. I'm going to go and call the nurse."

"Dad, wait. What happened? How did I fall?"

Alan hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he should tell Don. He had a serious head injury and was just waking up after three days. Don saw this hesitation and spoke.

"Dad, please just tell me the truth. What happened? Where's Colby? Is he all right?"

Alan knew that his son would not rest until he got answers and he couldn't blame him. If he were the one lying there he would want to know what was happening. Alan sighed and took a hold on Don's hand again, stroking it softly.

"Donnie, there was an explosion; someone threw a grenade into your room at the hospital."

Don's eyes opened wide for a moment then a look that was a mixture of desperation and fear flashed across his face.

"Colby… Is he… Did he die?"

"No, no Donnie, he's alive but he was badly injured. He saved your life. If he hadn't covered you with his body you would have died."

Don looked around and asked, "Where is he?"

"He's at Cedars Sinai… in the burn unit."

Don looked crushed by this news. "Oh, God. How is he doing?"

"I honestly don't know. Charlie and I haven't seen him. We've been at the safe house this whole time."

"But… what are you doing here then?"

"Donnie, that's a long story and right now I want you checked out by the doctor. We can talk later."

Alan got up to leave but turned back to his son.

"You are listed as John Doe here and that is how they want it to remain. Everyone including you bosses think that you died in that explosion. Do you understand?"

Don's head was spinning as well as throbbing horribly but he managed to nod his understanding. Alan stepped out of the room and was immediately greeted by Agent Warner and a young female doctor.

"I saw that he had woken up and went to get the doctor." Agent Warner said.

"Shall we step inside?" the doctor said, as she held open the door to Don's isolation room.

They all stepped inside the room and Don's looked startled.

"That was quick."

The doctor turned so that both Alan and Don could see her face before speaking.

"My name is Doctor Audrey Spinner. Megan Reeves is a friend of mine and she explained the situation here. She called me the night that the bomb went off at County and asked to have Agent Eppes transferred here under the name of John Doe. The hospital administrator and I are the only ones who know who you are Agent Eppes. Everyone else only knows you as John Doe."

She turned her full attention to Don.

"I want to examine you and I will probably order another CT Scan to check on the skull fracture and the brain swelling. How does your head feel?"

"Like an off tune rock band is playing at full volume."

"Well after the tests and my examination, I'll see if I can give you something to help with that. Do you hear any ringing in your ears?"

Don shook his head no and immediately regretted the movement.

"Try not to move your head around like that, Agent. It will only increase the pain. I know that you have many questions and they will be answered but not until I have finished with you. I have to contact the Radiology department to set up your scan so I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye to your father. Visiting hours are almost over and he will not be able to see you after hours. Agent Warner I'm sure can answer any questions that you may still have about this situation."

Dr. Spinner didn't wait for an objection from either of the Eppes men as she strode out of the room and over to the unit desk outside the room. Don wasn't sure he wanted to go through twenty questions right now anyway. His head felt like it was splitting in two but he didn't want to see his father leave either.

Agent Warner stepped out of the room as well to give them some privacy. He also went to the unit desk and used one of the phones there to call Agent Niagara. Ten minutes later Alan also stepped out of the room as Dr. Spinner entered to examine Don. By the time she had finished her examination Agent Niagara had arrived to pick up Alan who reluctantly left with him.

Charlie was still hard at work when they arrived back at the safe house. As soon as Alan walked into the apartment Charlie shot out from his work area with an expectant look on his face.

"Did you see him? Is he all right? Has he woken up yet?"

"Hold on there Charlie! You and your brother are just the same in some respects. Yes, Charlie he is awake and is doing well. I was only able to talk to him for a few minutes before I was told in no uncertain terms to leave, but the doctor looking after him seems very competent and she is a friend of Megan's."

Charlie sagged with relief at this news. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he sat quietly talking with his father for a while before retreating back to his work.

The next four days passed in a blur for Charlie. He now had two main focuses of his investigation into the financial dealings of the DiBenedetto family. Anthony Saborgia's files were as easily accessible to his hacking as were the patriarch of the family's but the convoluted path that the money took was staggering. It was not a wonder that none of the federal agencies were able to pin a money trafficking or tax evasion charge on these men. Their accountants were experts in laundering and hiding large sums of money.

The DiBenedetto family's accountants had never dealt with Charlie, however, and his single-minded obsession to find both the FBI informant as well as clearly tracing the steps and processes that the family money went through in order to come back to them in a tax deferred status was a force they couldn't imagine.

What Charlie found through his mapping of the money flows both shocked and pleased him. Saborgia has been embezzling money from his uncle for over four years. He did this in a very clever way that was nearly undetectable. He never touched DiBenedetto's principal moneys. Using a three tiered pyramid scheme he had been siphoning off the interest in the overseas accounts to the tune of nearly four million dollars or roughly a million a year.

There was no way that DiBenedetto's accountants would have caught this as the interest rates fluctuated practically on a daily basis. The reason this pleased Charlie was he now had a better plan than blackmailing DiBenedetto. Blackmail is illegeal and Charlie had never liked the idea of breaking the law to this extent. He would do it if he had to but now he had the information on Saborgia and decided it was a far better plan to broker a trade; the information on a traitor for their lives.

Charlie also found five accounts in Los Angeles that money was deposited into on a quarterly basis. He was going to hack into the banks associated with those accounts but decided that if the FBI wanted to use this information to arrest the informant then they should investigate the matter with a legal warrant to back them up.

He called David on the cell that Bob Thompkins had sent him and told him to go and check his e-mail for the account numbers and the banks that they were associated with. If one of those accounts led back to an agent then they had their informant.

David was beyond thrilled by this news because nothing they had tried had turned up any leads on the informant and both he and Megan were about at their wit's end. The agents watching Saborgia had still seen no sign of Pretoria or any sign of a federal agent visiting. There was very little chance that the informant would personally deliver information but Megan was getting desperate and Charlie's information gave her a solid base to work from.

The accounts that Charlie sent to them as well as enough of the money path to prove legally that the money came from Saborgia led them to some rather surprising results. Two of the accounts led to LAPD officers who had been on the force for decades. One belonged to Federal Judge, one to a lawyer and the final one led to an account in the name of Daniel Peterson.

David did some more checking and found out that the name and social security number on that account belonged to Daniel Peterson who was born November 18, 1997 and died February 12, 1999. This was the deceased son of William A. Peterson. That is why checks into the financial background of Bill Peterson turned up nothing. He was using his son's name and social security number. Apparently Peterson had set up the account as a simple savings for his son shortly after he was born and had never closed the account after his death.

Over the course of the next twelve hours Megan with the approval of the Director and Assistant Director pulled all available agents onto the investigation and they complied enough evidence to issue four arrest warrants. They were unable to touch the lawyer as he was listed as the official legal council to Saborgia's estate and the money being deposited was his official salary that was being claimed by the lawyer and taxes were being paid on that income.

Charlie burned all of his information onto a disk then made a copy. The copy he sent to Robert Thompkins via certified mail with a letter. The letter read:

_Dear Bob,_

_This disk shows all of the money flows in and out of the  
country for the entire DiBenedetto family. It turns out that  
Alto DiBenedetto's nephew has been embezzling money  
from him for years now. I am going to trade this information  
with Alto DiBenedetto for the contract._

_This is the only way to get this contract off our heads.  
The Federal government can not protect us. Don is an Agent  
and I am far too well known to be placed in witness relocation.  
This is the only way._

_This is a copy to have in safe keeping. I know that you will  
disapprove of what I am doing but I need you to keep this  
safe in case something happens to me._

_By the time you get this either I will be dead or this whole  
thing will be over with. If I am killed use this information to  
keep my brother and father safe._

_Charlie_

Charlie gave the package to Trip and explained that it needed to be sent by certified mail to Bob Thompkins. That it contained the files that Bob was expecting from him and not to ask him questions about it.

He dumped all of the files off of his hard drive and then used the data scrubbing program to wipe all evidence of his work off of the computer. He took down all of his post-its as well as the pages from his notebooks and papers with calculations and tore them up into tiny pieces before flushing them down the toilet. He ran the shower to hide the sound of the toilet flushing several times.

He had spent nearly a full two hours tracking down a phone number for Alto DiBenedetto. The cell phone company that DiBenedetto paid a monthly charge to proved to be a more difficult system to hack into than any other system he had dealt with thus far.

Once he had the number he waited until his father, Healy, Trip and he had sat down to dinner. He ate quickly and kept the conversation a light as possible considering that the topic was the arrest of Bill Peterson, Judge Kenneth Delaware and two decorated LAPD officers. Everyone congratulated Charlie on finding the evidence that put these dirty cops behind bars and even Alan had expressed how proud he was of his son once he got over the shock of finding out what he had been doing all this time.

Charlie excused himself from the table saying, "I've been working on this non-stop for so long now that I can't even remember starting. What I want now more than anything is to sleep for the next twenty-four hours so I'm turning in. Don't bother to wake me for breakfast; I'll eat when ever I get up."

With that Charlie headed for his room and closed and locked the door. Then he went over to the window and looked out at the darkening sky as street lamps began to flicker to life in the deepening twilight. He carefully opened the window and stuck his head out looking around. There was a fire-escape that led down to the alley below. He could see no movement at either end of the alley and decided that it was now or never.

He hoisted himself silently through the window and landed cat like on the fire-escape. He silently made his way down to the alley below and took a moment to lean up against the building peering around cautiously before heading to the end of the alley. There was an opening between the buildings that was in full view of the street and he scanned the area for any watchful agents before darting across the opening to the rear of the next building.

Once he made his way to the end of the next building he pulled the hood of the sweatshirt he had on up and walked casually out to the street and turned right so that he was walking away from the restaurant below the safe house.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to make his way to Union Station. In front of the station centered in a long walkway was a large sundial. Short white walls lined this bricked walkway and Charlie hopped up on the wall to the right of the sundial and took a seat on the grass under a palm tree. Then he pulled out the cell phone and dialed Alto DiBenedetto's number.

Charlie's heart was racing as he waited for the line to pick up. He had done as Trip asked and resumed taking the anti-anxiety medication and was now very glad that he did. It was all he could do at this moment to keep from collapsing in a shaking heap when a deep male voice said "Hello".

"Alto DiBenedetto?"

"Who is this, how did you get my number?"

"I have information that you want. Someone that you trust has been stealing money from you for a long time. I have proof of this embezzlement. I want to make a trade. Meet me at the sundial in front of Union Station in thirty minutes."

Before Alto could say anything Charlie hung up the phone and switched it off. He leaned back against the tree and looked around. The station was still fairly busy but no one was around the front of the building. The car park was off on the other side and there was not much foot traffic. He wanted this meeting to take place in privacy but he also wanted it to be public enough that he could call for help if he needed to.

Now it was just a matter of time. He was sure that DiBenedetto would come, and he prayed that he would be ready. He started taking slow deep breaths and counting as he sat waiting. This ordeal was going to end; for better or for worse it would end tonight.


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N - **Sorry for the delay in this chapter. It took quite a long time to write. It is a little long; probably one of the the longest chapters in the entire story but there was no way to shorten it. It was actually going to be quite a bit longer and I realized that it was getting ridiculous.  
Please enjoy  
Yours Sincerely,  
Alice I

**Chapter Forty-Five**

The past four days were difficult for Don. He remembered everything that had happened and asked about Colby regularly only to be frustrated by the fact that he wasn't getting satisfactory answers. The man had saved his life at a terrible cost and he desperately wanted to know how his friend and colleague was fairing.

Both Megan and David had come by as often as time and security would permit. They had informed him that Colby had undergone surgery for the burns on the left side of his back and arm and that his damaged left kidney had been removed but they did not have much information about his overall prognosis. Don was relieved to hear that Colby's father had flown in and was spending all of his time with the young agent.

'_At least he can have his family for support.'_

Don mentally scolded himself for that thought. He did not want to risk his own family's safety just so he could feel better or less lonely. He had met and spoken with all of the NSA agents assigned in LA except the two who were assigned to rotate surveillance on Saborgia. Three of these agents seemed to know Charlie very well and traded stories with Don about his particular eccentricities. This helped to ease his feelings of isolation but he missed his father and brother more than he ever thought he could.

He found himself marveling at a whole separate life that his younger brother seemed to have. Don was eternally grateful that his brother had these contacts since he had been brought up to speed by Megan and David about the informant within their own ranks.

Don found himself going over every agent in his mind trying to figure out who this traitor could be, and what he would do to him if he ever got his hands on him. Anger seethed below his outward emotions by the betrayal of someone he trusted.

David told him that Charlie was helping to pinpoint who the informant might be even though he knew that he shouldn't. Don was so insistent on knowing what was being done to find the bastard who had turned their lives upside down that David felt he had no real choice in the matter.

Much to David's surprise, Don supported the idea of using his brother's expertise to assist in the investigation. Don knew his brother well and was aware that Charlie needed to do something proactive to help resolve their current circumstances. Charlie was never one to sit back and allow others to solve his problems and Don found himself somewhat envious of his younger sibling. He was also feeling the insatiable desire to get up out of his hospital bed and lead the investigation but the fractured skull and the ensuing dizzy spells and nausea associated with the injury kept him reasonably immobile.

Don was beyond relieved when three days after he regained consciousness the VAC bandage was removed from his chest. The incision had shown excellent progress in healing and since the sternum was never actually sawed open the healing process progressed much faster than a full sternotomy would have.

Dr. Spinner was pleased that the chest wound had healed so well and that all signs of the previous infection were gone. Her main concern now was Don's fractured skull and the concussion associated with it. She had allowed him to begin becoming a little more mobile but left strict instructions that he must have physical assistance when he wanted to get up to move to the recliner in his room or to use the bathroom.

Normally Don would have resisted this help but that changed the first time he tried to get up and nearly passed out when a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him. He grudgingly admitted that it would be quite a while before he would fully recover from the head wound and once again felt his anger rise at the unknown informant who had divulged his location to Saborgia's hit man.

Four days after regaining consciousness Megan came by to see Don with the news that Charlie had not only found out who the informant within the Bureau was, but had also identified two LAPD officers and a judge who were also on Saborgia's payroll. She and David had personally arrested Bill Peterson based on the evidence that Charlie had collected after his financial investigation into Saborgia's cash flow.

Don sat stunned by the news that it was Peterson who had turned bad. He had worked side by side with this man from the time he transferred to LA from Albuquerque. He knew that Bill had lost a child some years ago before he had come to LA but he couldn't imagine anyone using their dead child's identity to collect payment from the mob. Bill had always seemed to be a dedicated agent. Don had trouble understanding how this man could betray his fellow agents the way that he had.

Don's anger at this betrayal was very real and quite powerful, but he also felt a sense of pity toward Peterson. Could the death of a child actually cause this kind of warped behavior in someone? Don had no children so he couldn't truly understand what it felt like to lose a child and as angry as he felt toward the informant, he also felt remorse.

Megan and David had personally conducted the interrogation of Peterson and were satisfied that he was unaware that Don was still alive. He had also been responsible for the leak some years ago that had resulted in the death of an agent and was going to be formally charged as an accessory to murder in his death. Peterson wanted to broker a deal with the Bureau to get a lesser sentence for information that would lead to the arrest of Saborgia in several deaths of not only the FBI agent but several federal witnesses.

Megan brought this request to Director Donaldson who was considering it. She wanted Don to know about this as well. If they could legitimately arrest Saborgia it might impact the contract out on their lives. Pretoria had already been paid but if they could get Saborgia to give up his location then they might be able to put an end to this situation. Donaldson was not inclined to grant Peterson's request until Megan told him that Don was indeed still alive.

Once Donaldson stopped shouting at her he sat down behind his desk and hung his head. He wanted to know why she felt the need to keep this vital piece of information from him. Megan braced herself for this encounter. She knew that she would be seriously disciplined for withholding this information from the Director but she stood by her decision.

Director Donaldson was not happy that he had been kept out of the loop with the status of Agent's Eppes' welfare and told Megan that he wanted a full report excluding no information and detailing exactly what had happened since the explosion at County General. He told her that the report was to be on his desk by the next morning or she would find herself on indefinite disciplinary suspension. The Director decided to read her report in full before he decided what action would be officially taken against her which was better than she had hoped for.

As these thoughts ran through Megan's mind she seemed to fade out from her conversation with Don.

"Megan! Hey are you ok?"

"Oh sorry, Don. Look it's getting late and I should let you get some rest."

As she rose to leave her cell phone rang shrilly. She grabbed it quickly and answered "Reeves" as she turned away from the cross look that the nurse passing the room at that very moment gave her. Cell phones were not allowed in hospitals, but Megan didn't care. She was still on dutyand she felt that if the doctors could use pagers that use the same radio frequencies as cell phones then she wasn't doing any harm. Besides there were no heart monitored patients on this ward.

"What? That's great. Stay on Pretoria. I'll call in a tact team and meet you there. If he leaves tail him and keep me informed."

Megan slapped her phone shut and smiled widely at Don.

"This will all be over by the end of the evening. We found your hit man."

Before Don could ask her questions that she didn't have time to answer she was out the door with her cell phone plastered to her ear.

"David, its Megan…"

Don lost the sound of her voice as she walked off down the hallway and out of the ward's main doors.

* * *

As dusk descended on the city Charlie sat under a palm tree in front of Union Station waiting for Alto DiBenedetto. He had managed to stave off the anxiety attack that threatened to consume him through concentration and the breathing exercises that David had taught him. He was still terrified by the prospect of what he was doing.

Charlie had done some research on Alto DiBenedetto and found that he considered himself to be a man of honor. This struck Charlie as utterly ludicrous as he was thought to be responsible for so many deaths. The violent history of the DiBenedetto family was well known if legally improvable. This family was responsible for setting up illegal gambling, extortion, prostitution rings, drug smuggling and a host of other crimes that the DA had never had sufficient evidence to convict with.

The fact that DiBenedetto prided himself as a family man and a Christian was so contradictory to his business practices that Charlie could only view the man as a blatant hypocrite. DiBenedetto actually agreed to an interview with a local news station two years ago where he described himself as the consummate Christian father attending Sunday mass every week. He had stated in that interview that he would do anything for his family.

Charlie was appalled by this interview but he could use DiBenedetto's own words to his advantage. Charlie was doing what he needed to do to protect his own family and he hoped that recalling that sentiment to DiBenedetto would keep him in one piece.

A black van pulled up along the road in front of the walkway leading up to the front entrance of Union Station. Charlie stared at it for a moment wondering if the Don of the most powerful Mob family in LA would actually arrive in such a vehicle. Two men stepped out of the van. One of them was dressed smartly in an Armani suit that probably cost as much as a full consulting fee for any one of Charlie's projects and the other was dressed in dark pants and a leather jacket. The scruffier of the two turned left and walked off while the one in the Armani suit stepped forward and began to walk up the brick walkway toward the station.

Neither one of these men was Alto DiBenedetto. Charlie had watched a recording on-line of the television interview with him and he was a man only a few years younger than his father. Both of these men looked to be in their thirties. Charlie stood up slowly as the man approached the sundial and moved around so that his body was obscured by the trunk of the palm tree. The man stopped directly in front of the large sundial in the middle of the brick walkway and began to turn his head as if looking for someone.

Charlie was peering at the man in the suit so intently that he didn't hear the other man who had exited the van walk up quietly behind him. The young mathematician froze as the cold steel of a gun muzzle pressed up against the nape of his neck and a deep voice whispered harshly in his ear.

"Don't move or speak."

The man behind Charlie wrapped a strong hand around his upper arm and began to push him out from his hiding place. The Armani suit looked over in their direction as Charlie was forced out in the open. He nodded at the man holding Charlie and turned to walk back toward the black van. The harsh voice was back.

"You wanted to see Mr. DiBenedetto. We are going to take you to him. Now move."

Charlie felt the panic rise up inside of him. He had not anticipated that Alto would not actually come to meet with him and he berated himself for being so stupid. Of course the most powerful mob boss in LA wouldn't show up to a meeting with an unknown even with the claim of showing proof that someone within his ranks was stealing money from him. The man had not come into this kind of power by making stupid decisions.

'_This is why you aren't the FBI agent. This is why you should leave this kind of thing to Don and stay in your classroom.'_

Charlie walked forward where the man was directing him with his powerful grip. They walked along the grassy area in front of Union Station amongst the palm trees that ran parallel to the main walk until the grass slopped down and met the sidewalk along the road. Within moments Charlie was being unceremoniously shoved into the van.

Neither of the men spoke to Charlie while they drove. There were no windows in the back of the vehicle and a solid partition with a small window between the rear of the vehicle and the driver's compartment so Charlie had no idea where they were going.

He was nearly as terrified as he was when Jon and he had been kidnapped by Shelly Arbury. This thought actually helped to steel his resolve and calm him somewhat. He had just been thinking to himself that he should have stayed in his class room and then he remembered the note that Shelly had stapled to his chest saying the same thing. Charlie raised his hand to his chest and rubbed at the small marks that were the only evidence of the injury he had sustained when she stapled him.

Had it really only been two weeks ago that all of this had happened? The tenderness of the spots where the staples and pierced his skin and bone told him that it was not so long ago that he had endured such intense fear and mental torture. What would he endure now in the clutches of these men devoid of conscience? Alto said that he would do anything for his family. That is the emotional card Charlie would play with this man and pray that he was speaking truthfully about that to the reporter who interviewed him.

After driving for nearly fifteen minutes the van came to a stop and the two men who had abducted him got out. He heard talking outside the vehicle and someone laughed in a rough and callous voice. After a few minutes of wondering what was going to happen next Charlie heard another vehicle pull up.

There was some shuffling of feet and more talking but Charlie couldn't make out any of the words being said. He sat on the floor of the van breathing slowly and counting as he felt the fear begin to rise like bile in his throat.

The side door of the van opened abruptly and the bright headlights from the other vehicle blinded Charlie. He raised his hand to his face to ward off the light as a tall figure approached him. The man stood in front of the open door of the van flanked by two other men and was blocking enough of the headlight's glare that Charlie was able to lower his hand from his eyes. He knew that he was face to face with the most powerful syndicate boss in Los Angeles even though he could scarcely make out any features of the man's face with the brightness of the lights behind him.

Having worked for agencies like the FBI and the NSA Charlie realized that this was an interrogation tactic. He was at a distinct disadvantage here and he knew it. DiBenedetto had made sure that Charlie was in a position where he could not fully see who he was facing. He was sitting in the van and couldn't stand up to find himself on equal ground with the man before him. He would be much shorter if they were standing facing each other but at least he would be on his own two feet. This was not possible at this point because the large frame of Alto DiBenedetto filled the opening of the van and gave Charlie no escape.

'_He is who he is for a reason.' _Charlie thought ruefully.

He was terrified but also determined. There was no way to back out now so the most logical thing for him to do was to move forward with his plan. All of these factors and variables about his current situation flashed before him at an amazing rate and the resolve that Charlie began to feel showed clearly in his face. DiBenedetto did not miss this at all.

"What is your name?"

This took Charlie a little by surprise. Of all of the questions he had anticipated being asked first this was not one of them although it seemed a fair question. He had after all contacted DiBenedetto with alarming news without giving any information as to who he was. Now Charlie wondered if he should tell this man the truth or lie. There was a contract out on his life at the moment, authored by his nephew. Charlie was certain that Alto was aware of all contracts that were current in the LA area and giving his name could easily be a death sentence, but it was going to come to revealing who he was at some point in there conversation because the removal of the contract was Charlie's goal.

"I am Charles Edward Eppes and the information that I have is not only true but I have the proof to back it up."

Alto DiBenedetto knew about the explosion at County General and that an FBI agent had been killed in the blast. He knew that his nephew Tony had agreed to a hit on two brothers one of them being the FBI agent who was killed. He had discussed this with his nephew briefly and warned him that these private business ventures that he got involved in needed to not interfere with the family or their business interests. It seemed to Alto that this is indeed what had happened.

One of the men who was standing next to DiBenedetto left at the mention of Charlie's name and Charlie had to move his head so that he wasn't blinded again by the headlights of the car facing the side of the van.

"What information do you have, and how did you come by it?"

This was the part of his plan that Charlie had been unsure of right from the start. There was no way to lie about how he had discovered Tony Saborgia's embezzlement. Charlie suspected quite strongly that lying to Alto DiBenedetto was something that you only did once. He took a deep breath and decided that his best option was the complete truth.

"The information that I have concerns your money flow and financial records. Someone that you trust has been embezzling money from your accounts for the past four years. As of this afternoon three million eight hundred thousand six hundred twenty-three dollars and ninety-seven cents has been siphoned from your offshore investment accounts."

The posture of the man standing before him shifted and Charlie got the distinct sense that DiBenedetto was stunned by this number.

"It is not possible that I have had that kind of money stolen from me without my accountants informing me of this. Are you saying that my accountants are the thieves?"

The tone that was used broached no argument. This man wanted answers and he wanted them now.

"No sir, the money was taken from interest and taken in a very clever way. Your accountants would not have seen this pattern. It would have been invisible to them."

"But not to you?"

"I have a unique way with numbers Mr. DiBenedetto. I see patterns where others can't. I have seen this pattern before on other embezzlement cases that I have worked on. It is very hard to spot and even harder to trace."

There was movement from behind DiBenedetto and he turned to walk back toward the other car. The man standing to the left of DiBenedetto smoothly stepped in front of the open van door effectively blocking any escape. Charlie also noticed that the man held a semi automatic weapon and he swallowed hard.

After a few minutes of discussion the first man handed some sheets of paper to his boss and the both walked back to the van where Charlie sat.

"Dr. Charles Edward Eppes; Professor of Applied Mathematics at California Scientific Institute. You also consult for the FBI. You are a genius in your field. You went to Princeton at the age of thirteen and have three doctorates within your field. What I want to know is how you came to know that nearly four million dollars has been stolen from me."

Charlie waited for a moment before answering. He took two slow breaths to try and squash the panic that had begun to threaten to take hold of him. He thought of his brother and his family and looked up into the darkened face staring down at him.

"I researched your family's financial background and hacked into your offshore and stateside banks to map out the money flow."

"Why?"

The tone of DiBenedetto's voice was dangerous and it sent a chill down Charlie's spine. As hard as he tried Charlie couldn't keep the tremor of pure fear out of his voice when he answered.

"Shelly Arbury, the FBI killer, has arranged a contract on the life of my brother and me through your nephew, Anthony Saborgia. I was going to blackmail you to get that contract rescinded. When I discovered that your money was being embezzled within your own organization I realized that trading that information for the contract had a higher probability of success."

Charlie wasn't sure what he expected but the quiet voice filled with anger that Alto used next frightened him more than anything else had so far during this encounter.

"You delved into my personal affairs. You found a path to… how did you put it… map the money flow when no other government agency could? You planned to use this information, which you acquired illegally, to blackmail me, which is also illegal. Where is this _'proof'_ that you claim to have of this theft of my money?"

Charlie reached a shaking hand into his pocket and withdrew the disc he had burned.

"And tell me professor, what is to stop me from killing you right now and taking that disc?"

"Its password protected."

"I have my own computer wiz, professor. I am sure that he can access that disc without your password."

Charlie was beyond scared now. He didn't believe that the 'computer wiz' that DiBenedetto had would actually be able to break his encryption but it was certainly possible and all DiBenedetto needed to do was believe that this guy could read the disc without Charlie divulging the password and he was as good as dead.

"The encryption on this disc is unbreakable, I programmed it myself and I am an expert with encryption ciphers."

Charlie was bluffing a little now. Yes he was an expert with encryption ciphers and it was highly unlikely that someone below his level of expertise could break his encryption but it was not impossible.

"You have that sheet there on me, so I am sure that you realize that I'm telling the truth."

"You may be a genius but from where I'm standing you're either the dumbest guy on the planet or you have bigger balls than I do; maybe both. You are a danger to me. If you were able to access all of my financial records both locally and offshore once then you could do it again. Your plan to use this information in trade has backfired on you professor. I can not let you live. You work for the FBI. You are a clear and present danger to me."

Charlie shrank back from the man blocking the open doorway to the van. He was sure that he was going to die at this point but he had resolved to finish this so he summoned all of his courage and began speaking in a faint voice that gained strength as he continued.

"I am no more of a threat to you than any other high level mathematician. You can kill all of the mathematicians in the world. I got this information in a way that could not be used legally against you in a court of law, so I couldn't do this again for the FBI or the DA's office. If this disc were to anonymously fall into the hands of the authorities then they could probably use it but I couldn't hand it over to them."

Alto was not looking convinced. During the course of their conversation Charlie's eyes had adjusted to the light and he was able to make out the mob boss' facial features. He had to find a way to get through to this man or he was dead.

"You did an interview a couple of years ago with WTWK. You said that you would do anything to protect your family. That is what I am doing. I know that once a contract has been taken out on someone there is no where to run, so I did the only thing I could do to save my family."

Alto stared hard at Charlie for a moment not saying anything. He seemed to be mulling this over in his mind. Charlie began to feel some hope that he might just survive this encounter after all when the large man reached out and grabbed him by the front of his shirt bodily hauling him out of the van. The move was so sudden that Charlie was taken completely by surprise and couldn't do anything to fend off the powerful man.

Alto threw him toward three men standing behind him and nodded to them. Before Charlie could ask what was happening one of the men seized him from behind pinning his arms and hauled him to his feet. The disc was ripped from his grip and tossed to Alto who stood back and watched as one of his men pulled a shiny object from a pocket and fitted it over his hand. Charlie balanced when he saw the brass knuckles.

'_They still make those things?'_

"What are you doing? Why? I told you I'm just trying to protect my family!"

The man with the brass knuckles punched Charlie hard in the chest sending a raw wave of pain through him. He suddenly felt as if he were back in the print room of Bell Publications and was having another note stapled to his chest. Charlie's knees buckled as the wind was knocked out of him but he didn't fall because the man behind him held him firmly in place.

After several more blows to his ribs and abdomen the young man felt his strength waning. A powerful blow to the left side of his face nearly knocked him out and Alto held up a hand to stop the beating.

"You should not have considered blackmailing me or even thought about invading my privacy by going through my finances. That invasion of my private matters can not go unpunished."

Alto stood back and handed the disc off to another man who retreated to the inside of the car, a black stretch limousine, that was facing the van Charlie had been brought in. The mathematician realized that Alto was going to have his man try to break the encryption on the disc and wondered how that boded for him and if the beating would continue. To his horror he saw the mob boss nod once again to his men.

Charlie lost all sense of self as the two men facing him pounded his face, chest and abdomen relentlessly. He would have cried out but he had no voice or breath to do so. After what seemed like hours the man holding his arms behind his back let go and he dropped in a boneless heap on the ground.

The next thing that Charlie was aware of was someone grasping a handful of his hair and pulling his head up. His left eye was swollen shut making it difficult to focus. His right eye still seemed to function and he looked up into the angry face of Alto DiBenedetto. The man had squatted down in front of Charlie while one of his tormentors held his head up to face the Mob boss. DiBenedetto pulled a gun from his inside of his coat and brought it right up to Charlie's forehead.

'_Oh, God, I'm going to die now. I wonder if it will hurt as much as those knuckles?'_

"I could kill you right now, Professor and hope that my accountants can eventually open that disc but I am an impatient man. I will make a deal with you. If the information on that disc proves to be true and I find out who has been stealing money from me I will make sure that the contract on your life is revoked. If it turns out that this is all some sort of bluff, I will kill you personally. Now give me the password or I will shoot you right here and now."

Charlie felt relief wash over him and he began to tremble with that release. He knew that the information was good but what would stop this man from getting what he wanted then killing him anyway.

"How do I know that you won't kill me after you read the disc?"

Charlie hated the way his voice sounded, filled with terror, but he wanted to have some kind of assurance before he gave away the only piece of information keeping him alive.

"I will give you my word, Professor. If you have done your research on me, as I know you have, you will know that when Alto DiBenedetto gives his word he doesn't break it. As you said, you were only doing what you needed to do to protect your family. I can respect that. I admire your moxy; it's not everyday that I'm challenged by someone such as yourself. So what will it be Professor?"

This was the best that Charlie could hope for and he realized that he would have to trust that DiBenedetto would keep his word, especially after that little speech he just made in front of his men.

"Praesto Vereor."

Alto looked at Charlie for a moment surprised by the password. "I grew up with a classical background Professor. You have chosen two Latin words that when put together mean 'To stand before fear'. Why did you choose this as your password?"

"Ever since this whole thing started I have been afraid; for my brother, for me. I had to conquer that fear to find the answer; to save my family."

Charlie was wavering in and out of consciousness at this point. He was vaguely aware of giving the password for the disc and telling someone why he chose that particular password, but it all began to fade into darkness. Who ever was holding him by his hair let go and he felt his head drop to the ground with a muffled grunt. His right eye was open a slit and he saw blurry shapes walking around in the light from the headlamps of a car. There were deep voices talking but he couldn't make out the words.

Every inch of his body hurt and it was very difficult to take anything more than shallow breaths. The milling about came to an abrupt halt when a loud and angry voice began shouting obscenities. The feet quickly moved and the sound of slamming doors filled the air. An engine revved up then another followed by the squealing of tires and then everything was dark and cold.

Charlie tried to move; tried to get up but his body was like a lead weight. He tried to roll over but a sharp pain in his chest and left side prevented him from doing anything of the sort. They had not killed him, but they had left him here, where ever here was, broken and bleeding. Maybe he would die here, maybe he would be found by some unsavory character, maybe…

He couldn't think anymore, all he could do was close his eyes and try to keep breathing. He was faintly aware that the pain was ebbing away as he drifted into blissful darkness.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N – **Guess what; I won one of the categories in the Numb3rs Fan Fiction Awards. I was quite please to find that out. The category was "_General_ – **Angst/Dark**" so in honor of that let's get this rather dark piece finished. This is not the last chapter but it's a long one. There will only be one other chapter after this and possibly an epilogue.  
As always I love your comments and I do hope you have enjoyed the ride.

**Chapter Forty-Six**

Don was too anxious to sleep. He wanted to know what was happening with Megan and the tac team. He wanted to be there when they took Saborgia and Pretoria down. He wanted to talk to his family. He wanted to get the hell out of the hospital and get back to his life.

"Agent Parker."

Jessup Parker was seated just outside the open door to Don's room. He had been talking on the phone at the unit desk and he turned at the sound of his name. Getting up he moved quickly to the door and entered.

"I just spoke with Agent Paxton. He called in Agent Tyler and they are now both watching Saborgia's residence. Pretoria hasn't left the residence yet. He seems to have a room the guest house at the rear of the property. Our men have been in constant contact with Agent Reeves. She and the tac team should be arriving at Saborgia's residence within the next fifteen minutes."

Don just stared at this man with a feeling of deep gratitude and stunned surprise. He was astonished that he had received such a through briefing on the situation at hand and he appreciated the way that these NSA agents worked. They kept in tight communication with each other and conducted themselves with the same professionalism that Don expected from every one of the agents under his command. He expected nothing less but it was reassuring to know that this was the caliber of agent who was taking care of his family.

"Thank you. I really do appreciate the fact that you are keeping me informed with the progress of this operation. I hate being stuck here unable to do anything but I was actually calling you in here to help me get out to the unit desk. I want to call my family. We know that Pretoria is no where near the safe house and the informant has been arrested so there shouldn't be any security issues with me making this call."

Don tried to sound cool headed and professional but Jess could hear the longing in his voice. Jess understood, having read Agent Eppes' file. The man had been tortured, separated from his loved ones, nearly killed and had found out that a fellow agent that he had trusted was a traitor. Agent Eppes needed to hear a friendly voice; he had been isolated from his family for too long.

Jess stepped over to the corner of the room and brought a wheelchair to the side of the bed to help Don get up. Once he had the agent seated securely in the chair he grabbed the blanket from the bed and folded it so that he could lay it across the man's exposed legs without dragging on the floor. Once he had Don all set he wheeled him out to the unit desk near the phone.

Don needed to use the phone at the nurses station since the one in his room hadn't ever hooked up. Agent Parker had to dial for Don because he didn't know the number and even if he had his head was pounding and it was blurring his vision somewhat.

After Agent Parker dialed Trip's cell phone and got his boss on the phone he explained that Don wanted to talk to his family. Then he handed the phone to Don and stepped back to where the two evening nurses were sitting to give Agent Eppes a modicum of privacy.

"Hello?" Don spoke almost uncertainly into the mouthpiece.

"Donnie! Oh it is so good to hear your voice. How are you feeling?"

"Hi, Dad; my head is killing me but other than that I'm actually pretty good. They took that vacuum thing away yesterday."

"That's wonderful! The incision is all healed?"

"Well not completely, but the infection's completely gone and I only have a gauze bandage on now. I'll have a nasty looking scar but I suppose I can live with that. Listen Dad, this whole thing will be over soon. They found the hit man. Megan, David and a tactical team are on their way to pick him up."

There was silence on the line after that statement and Don grew concerned.

"Dad? Hey are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Donnie. I… that's wonderful news. Does that mean that we will be able to get out of this place? Can we come to see you and bring you home?"

"Once they have Pretoria and Saborgia in custody yeah, we should be home free. How's Charlie holding up?"

"Agent Niagara went to wake him up."

"He's gone to bed already? Is he all right?"

"He's fine, Donnie. He has been working non-stop for the last week helping to figure out who the FBI informant was. He's exhausted."

"Well don't wake him up. I'll call again tomorrow."

Just then Don heard shouts in the background. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as his father's voice trailed off slightly as though he were holding the phone down away from his mouth. The frantic tone in his father's voice scared him more than anything else had so far.

"What do you mean he's not here?"

"The window is open and the fire escape has been lowered to the alley."

"Oh my God! Where would he have gone?"

"Dad! Dad! What's going on?"

Agent Parker was immediately on alert and stepped over quickly to Don and reached for the phone. Don had no intention of releasing it to the agent as he continued to call into the mouthpiece for his father.

Alan heard the sound of his son's voice coming from the phone held at his side. He had forgotten for a moment that Don was on the phone. He brought it quickly to his ear and spoke quickly.

"Donnie, Charlie's gone."

"What? Where did he go?"

Suddenly there was another voice on the phone. It was Agent Niagara.

"Don, let me talk to Agent Parker."

"What's going on? Where's Charlie? How could he just leave without you knowing it?"

"Charlie went to bed early saying that he was tired then snuck out the window."

"What? Why the hell would he do that? You have to find him."

"I am going to do just exactly that Agent Eppes, now let me speak to my agent."

The command in Trip's voice snapped Don out of his growing panic and he reluctantly handed the phone to the NSA agent standing next to him.

"Jess, Charlie left the safe house and turned off the cell that Director Thompkins gave him but the locator chip is still transmitting a signal. It looks like he is closer to you than to us. I'll forward the schematic in real time to your PDA. You will need to intercept him. Healy and I will follow. I'll call Matt and have him come to stay with Mr. Eppes."

Jess heard Alan's voice in the background.

"I'm going with you!"

Trip was ignoring the protests of the older man and continued to speak.

"I'll use Charlie's laptop to send the location to you; you should have it in a moment then get going."

Jess was about to hang up the phone when Don snatched it out of his hand only to hear a dial tone when he brought it to his ear. He looked up at the agent who had pulled out a PDA and turned it on.

"What's going on? Do you know where Charlie is?"

"I will in a moment. Director Thompkins sent a cell phone to him that was off the grid. He wanted Charlie to have a secured way to contact him if he needed to. He also had a locator chip embedded in the phone. The phone is off right now but the chip works like a continuous GPS and it's giving us his location. Agent Niagara said that he is closer to us than the safe house so once I have his location I am going to go and get him. Agent's Niagara and Marsdock will leave the safe house and go to that location as well. Agent Warner is going to the safe house to collect your father."

* * *

Alan continued to loudly protest being left behind when he stopped speaking abruptly as Agent Niagara held up a hand to silence him. He had hit a number on his cell that speed dialed Agent Warner.

"Matt, get to the safe house ASAP! Charlie Eppes left without us knowing about it. I sent Healy down to bring the car around. He and I will follow Jess to the location of the chip in his phone. I need you to come and stay with Mr. Eppes until we can retrieve Charlie and bring him back."

Agent Niagara paused for a moment to listen to what ever his agent was saying then hung up the phone and faced Mr. Eppes. Before he could say anything Alan started speaking.

"Now listen here Agent Niagara; this is my son you are talking about. I have a right to go with you to find him."

"Mr. Eppes, I don't know what Charlie is doing. I don't know if he is in a dangerous situation or not. I have no idea how he got clear across town in the time he has been missing. He doesn't have access to a car. Now Agent Marsdock is contacting the cab companies in town to see if anyone has been picked up from this area. We know where he is because we made sure he was tagged with a locator beacon. He doesn't know this or else he would have disabled the chip. I am responsible for your safety as well as his and I **will not** take you into a potentially dangerous situation no matter how much you shout about it. I understand that he is your son. You have to trust me now that I will get him back."

Agent Niagara put forth his most commanding voice to make sure that Alan understood that he would broach no argument on the subject. For a relatively small man he had an imposing presence when he needed to and Alan responded to that presence by sitting down heavily into one of the chairs at the table. When he spoke next he had an edge of desperation in his voice.

"Where would he go… and why?"

Trip went to Charlie's laptop and booted it up. He typed in some information and a picture came up on the screen. It looked like a portion of the city taken from the air.

"I can tell you where he went but not why. He's on an access road that runs below and roughly parallel to the Ventura Freeway. From the satellite photo it looks like a fairly isolated area. I don't know why he went there or how he arrived at that location. It isn't too far from Huntington so that is why I am sending Agent Parker. He can get to that location inside of fifteen minutes." I'll stay in contact with you through Agent Warner who should be arriving soon."

Alan didn't like having to stay behind but he understood why he couldn't go with the NSA team and he scrubbed his hand down his face.

"I want to talk to him as soon as you find him, all right?"

Agent Niagara felt for this man. He and his family had been through so much over the last few weeks that he was not sure how he would react if their positions were reversed.

"I know that you are worried, but hang tight. I'll call you as soon as I know what is going on."

With that Agent Niagara left the apartment leaving Alan sitting there not knowing whether he was more 'angry at' or 'worried about' his youngest.

* * *

Megan rode in one of the large black FBI vans that were headed toward Anthony Saborgia's home while David rode in the second. She had contacted Director Donaldson as well as Assistant Director Merrick and advised them of the situation. They had both authorized the use of a double team one commanded by Megan and the other by David. They wanted both Pretoria and Saborgia and felt that two teams could cover the exits to Saborgia's rather extensive property more effectively.

David's team was to cover the far side of the property near the guest house where Pretoria was still located. Megan would converge with her men on the front of the property. They felt that the majority of Saborgia's armed men would be covering the front so Megan was given the larger of the two teams.

They were five minutes out when her cell phone rang drawing her attention from her thoughts.

"Reeves."

"Agent Reeves, we have a situation. A large black limousine and three other vehicles pulled up to Saborgia's front walk three minutes ago and several men got out. The two armed guards at the front door were shot with silencers."

"What?"

"It looks like there is someone else coming to this party."

"Agent Paxton, can you tell who the new arrivals are?"

"Jimmy ran the plates on the limo and they are registered to Alto DiBenedetto. My guess is there is a family dispute going on, and you are about to walk right into the middle of it."

"Did you see who did the shooting?"

"The guards were taken out by two men who got out of a dark van and walked beside DiBenedetto. I am assuming that he was the big guy that got out of the limo…. Hold on…"

Megan looked to the driver and told him to step on it.

"Agent Reeves, There is gun fire going on inside the house. What do you want us to do?"

"Hold your positions and document everything on film. Can you patch me through to Agent Tyler?"

There were a few clicks over the receiver and then James Tyler's voice came on the phone.

"Agent Reeves, Pretoria heard the gun fire from the main house. He's going to rabbit!"

"Stop him!"

Megan grabbed the radio from her waist and turned the channel before speaking into the mike at her neck.

"David! Pretoria is on the move. Alto DiBenedetto turned up at the house and now there is shooting going on. Paxton said it looks like some sort of family feud. How close are you?"

"We're only a couple of minutes out but if he's running we may not get there in time if there is any other way out."

"Patch into Agent Tyler's headset. He is going to try and stop Pretoria. Go on his lead."

David pulled his cell from his waist and dialed into the dispatch and had them run the patch. By the time that was done the tac van was pulling up to the gate at the rear end of Saborgia's estate. Two of the team got out and began to disarm the alarms on the gate and get it open.

Megan turned her attention back to the cell and spoke. "Did you get patched to Sinclair yet, Tyler?"

"Roger, Agent Sinclair patching into me. He's on the move, Sinclair are you there?"

"Right here; we have already disabled the gate and are coming down the access road at the rear of the property. We are about a mile and a half up the road."

"Good. That is the only road out of here. Pretoria just got into a Cadillac Escalade. He is headed in your direction. Park across the road and set up an ambush. I'll follow behind so he can't double back."

Megan listened to this chatter between the NSA agent and the second tac team feeling like it was starting to fall apart. If Pretoria slipped past the team they would never find him again but she had her own tactical team assault to concern herself with.

"Agent Paxton, give me an update. How many of DiBenedetto's men are outside and what are their positions? How many went inside?"

"There are two armed men outside the house. They have taken up the positions of Saborgia's dead guards. I can see a head inside the limo in the back and the driver is still there. Two more armed men are standing between the parked vehicles. Four men plus DiBenedetto went inside."

"So we have a total of eleven hostiles not including any of Saborgia's men left alive. Damn it! We are pulling up to your position now."

Megan got out of the van as soon as it stopped and had the entire team exit. Then she told the driver to pull up to the entrance of the long drive that ran up to Saborgia's front step effectively blocking Alto's vehicle from using the drive way as an exit. Bob Paxton was crouched on the far side of the wall surrounding Saborgia's property. He looked down at Megan when she came over to his position. He lay on his belly and reached a hand down to help her up onto the two foot wide stone wall that bordered the property.

Once she was up on the wall Megan gave him a headset so that he was able to communicate with her team. Agent Paxton handed her the night vision binoculars he had been using so she could asses the situation. The two men by the front door were carrying semi-automatic weapons and were pacing slightly back and forth and avoiding the bodies of the slain guards each of whom had been shot in the head. She heard another gunshot from inside drawing the attention of the two men pacing in front of the door.

"They look a little nervous." She noted aloud.

"They should be. The gunfire from inside the house was intense. It sounded like a shootout between DiBenedetto's men and Saborgia's men took place."

She moved the binoculars to the parked vehicles noting that they all were sitting there idling. The driver of the limo sat stock still with his hands on the wheel as if he were ready to bolt at any moment. She could see the head inside the back of the limo and the faint glow of a light source in front of him.

"That light inside the limo…" Megan started to say.

"I'm thinking it's a laptop."

"That's my guess too."

She moved her scrutiny to the men between the vehicles. They were both doing a slow circuit around the vehicles peering up the driveway toward the bend and all along the perimeter walls of the property.

"OK we can have sharp shooters take out the two rear guards with stun darts. Then my team could enter from the drive and flank the vehicles."

She looked through the binoculars again to check the layout of the mouth of the driveway and the surrounding property. The head of the drive was blocked by the vehicles parked there and the closest cover was a stand of tall hydrangea bushes ten meters from the back of one of the vans. Megan then scanned the house after turning the infra red off. The front hall was brightly lit and she could see clearly into the large foyer off of the entry hall. If anyone were coming out they would go through the foyer and entry way first.

"We need to distract the guards out front for a few seconds so my guys have time to run for cover behind the hydrangeas. From there they can circle the house and end up flanking the front door guards. Another team could get up alongside the limo and take the driver and occupant by surprise. Once we are in place we can formulate an entry plan. I'll need you to keep watch from this vantage point. Stay on an open channel with me and let me know if anyone is coming out."

She hopped down off of the wall and set out to deploy her team instructing them all to have an open com channel to the look out.

"Agent Paxton is our eyes. If someone comes out before we are deployed follow his lead. He can see all of us and them. Let's do it people."

* * *

Bennie Pretoria had heard the gunfire coming from the main house and had no intention of finding out what it was all about.

'_Let that idiot Saborgia deal with his own problems.' _

Bennie hastily packed up his kit all the while scanning the main room of the guest house for any items that if left behind would easily trace back to him. It took him all of ninety seconds to be fully packed and ready to flee. His military training had embedded in him the need to move quickly and efficiently. He never really unpacked when he stayed someplace especially if he was on a job. He always left all of the belongings that needed to go with him in one central location next to or in an open bag in the event he had to leave in a hurry.

He raced out to his car within two minutes of the first gun shot and put the key in the ignition. His window was down and with his hand on the key he waited for a moment. Gun fire erupted from the house in loud staccato blasts and he took that moment to turn the car on under cover of the noise. Without turning on the head lights he pulled out slowly away from the guest house down the access road that ran along the back side of the property. Once he was out of sight of the mansion he would gun it and get the hell out of there.

Agent Tyler jumped down from his surveillance spot atop the rear wall of the property and crouching made his way to a Ford pickup that sat by the gardener's shed. He popped the lock on the door and got in. Within seconds he had hotwired the truck and started the engine. By the time he was ready to follow Pretoria the Escalade was nowhere in sight. It had all ready gone around the first bend and was headed up the access road toward the gate at the back of the property.

As Bennie turned the corner in the first bend he flipped on the headlights and gunned the engine. There was another bend in the road just ahead and as he came around he slammed on the breaks. There was a large black van parked across the road with the words FBI TACTICLE UNIT written in large white letters across it. Bennie threw the car in reverse as men in black jumpsuits and riot gear came from every direction converging on his position shouting "FBI! GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"

Bennie floored it and nearly ran over one of the tac officers. He backed down the road in a straight line and nearly went off the road and he came to the bend but cranking the wheel all the way to the right while popping the car into drive spun him around in a perfect smugglers turn and he sped off back the way he had come.

Luckily Agent Tyler had gotten out of the pickup truck because Bennie was paying so much attention to the tactical van that had moved from it's position and followed him back down the access road that he didn't see the ford pick up parked across the road until it was too late to stop. He crashed into the truck at nearly fifty miles an hour. Bennie had not bothered with a seat belt and shot head first through the windshield of the Escalade with such velocity that he landed on the road on the far side of the pick up truck which proceeded to roll over him as it was pushed back down the road when the much larger and heavier Escalade hit it.

* * *

Jessup Parker left Huntington and ran to his car. The PDA showed that Charlie was on an unmarked road that ran along side of South Arroyo Blvd. He drove west on West California Blvd. to the end where it hit South Arroyo Blvd and made a right. A mile and a half up the winding road just before Norwood Dr. there was an unmarked access road that formed a fork off of Arroyo to the left. Jess took that road driving north until the road turned toward the left and led out to the road that ran parallel to the Ventura Freeway. The chip indicated that Charlie was about a mile up and a hundred yards off the road on the left.

Jess didn't know what he was driving into so when he got within a quarter mile of the location he turned his lights off and pulled off to the side of the road. He proceeded slowly for another eighth of a mile then stopped all together. The noise from the freeway off to the left was loud enough that he wouldn't be able to make out voices unless he was fairly close so he carefully made his way forward on foot.

Once he was even with the signal he peered over to the left seeing nothing but a large open area dotted with large brush that looked like oversized boulders in the darkness. He crept forward to the first of these bush like scrubs and listened intently but heard no sounds other than the freeway beyond them.

Jess checked the location on his PDA again and realized that Charlie should be about twenty yards directly in front of him. He stood up and scanned the area through squinted eyes until they came to rest on a form low on the ground. It wasn't a bush or mound of dirt. Feeling his heart sink at that still form he threw caution to the wind and ran forward.

"Charlie!"

Jess came up to the form lying on the ground and saw a mop of dark curls. He was lying on his right side facing away from Jess who knelt down quickly at the young man's side. He placed his fingers to Charlie's neck and relief washed through him as he felt a strong pulse. Gently turning Charlie onto his back he called his name softly.

"Charlie. Can you hear me? Charlie?"

The moon was out and shed enough light that Jess could see how badly his friend had been beaten. He snapped open his cell and called Trip first to tell him what he had found, then he dialed 911 to call for an ambulance. He was instructed by the operator to stay on the line until the ambulance arrived and during that time he tried to give an accurate description of Charlie's injuries.

He was unconscious and the left side of his face was swollen and bloody. He reacted when Jess touched the left side of his chest and torso but he didn't wake up. Jess noticed that there were no injuries on either of Charlie's forearms or hands indicating that his arms had been held behind him while someone beat him.

Trip and Healey arrived only minutes before the ambulance and were quickly forced to back off when the EMT's began their work. Huntington was the closest hospital and since his brother was there Trip told them to take Charlie there.

Jess had taken the cell phone out of Charlie's back pocket and handed it to Trip who pocketed the phone. That cell phone was his only link to what had happened to his charge tonight and even though the FBI mole had been found he had no intention of turning this over to them. Charlie was his responsibility and he would investigate what had happened and make certain that who ever did this to the young man would pay.

Throwing the keys to Healey he sat down in the passenger side of the car and dialed Matt's cell and asked to speak to Alan Eppes.

"Mr. Eppes… Alan, Charlie has been hurt…"

* * *

Megan had all of her people in place and gave the go ahead with a hand signal. The agents fanned out quietly. As one of the rear guards made his way to the back of the vehicles and looked up the driveway the sound of a slight pop broke the still night air and the man fell heavily to the ground clutching at his neck. After about thirty seconds the second guard rounded the back of the vehicles and stooped dead in his tracks as he caught sight of his companion on the ground. Another soft pop sounded and he dropped beside the other man.

Four agents crouched low moved forward along the vehicles then stopped and waited for a signal from Paxton. Megan spoke softly into her mike.

"We're in position."

Bob Paxton took a riot gun filled with rubber bullets and aimed at the far wall away from the cars and the FBI agents. He took careful aim at the begonia pots sitting atop the far wall and fired. The riot gun was amazingly quiet because of the rubber bullets and the begonia pot exploded into pieces raining dirt and debris down the side of the wall. Both of the door guards turned toward the racket and started off toward the far wall. One held a hand up to the other and said, "Stay here but cover me!" Bob spoke quickly into his mike.

"Go, Go, Go!"

Megan and her group ran for cover behind the tall bushes and three of them began to silently make their way around the house while Megan and three more crept up to the side of the house nearest the door. The guard who had gone to investigate the flower pot was looking up at the edge of the wall where the remaining bottom of the pot sat spilling dirt down the side of the wall. There was a loud chirping sound from the tree just to the left of the pot on the wall and a squirrel jumped from one branch to another chittering angrily at the man below. The guard laughed and shook his head as he walked back toward the front door.

While the guards were distracted with the angry squirrel the four agents had checked the interiors of the other vehicles. Two of those agents dragged the stunned men back up the drive to the van while the other two crept up the side of the limo. The driver was watching as one of the guards moved over toward the far wall and the begonia pot with his gun raised. He never heard the agent who came up beside him until he felt the barrel of a gun touch the side of his neck.

"FBI, One sound and I will shoot."

The other agent walked right up to the back door of the limo and opened it up quickly and smoothly taking a seat inside. By the time the man inside the limo tore his eyes away from the computer screen he was looking at he had a gun pointed directly in his face. These men were removed quietly from the limo and taken up to the van as well.

Megan had her people in position to take out the two door guards as the other agents were making there way back down to the vehicles when everyone heard Agent Paxton give the alert.

"Their coming out. DiBenedetto and three of the other men have just entered the foyer."

"Where's the fourth?" Megan asked into her mike.

"I don't see him. There was a lot of gun fire, he may have been hit. Here they come; they will be at the front door in twenty seconds."

"Everyone hold your positions; let them get clear of the house before we move in. Marks where are your men?" Megan wanted to make sure everyone was placed before the men left the house.

"We are flanking the limo and vans. We have cover and are ready to move on your order."

Megan's heart was racing. She had eleven agents all covered in body armor and armed. DiBenedetto had five men without body armor and armed. Megan's team had the advantage in number and surprise but except for the four men by the vehicles her team had no real cover. She knew all too well how quickly things can go wrong.

The front door opened and two of the men with DiBenedetto stepped out onto the front stoop and looked around. The met the gazes of the men outside and nodded to them. All four started forward toward the cars when DiBenedetto himself emerged from the house flowed by the third man. The four in front noticed that the driver of the limo was not in his seat and they stopped and the one on the left held his hand up.

"Jake's gone!"

Suddenly all of the men moved to form a circle around the mob boss with guns raised.

"Damn it! Everyone move now!" Megan ordered and agents moved out yelling "FBI Lower your weapons!"

The men around DiBenedetto began firing at the agents while moving in a tight circle toward the vehicles and cover. Each of Megan's agents with no discernable cover picked a target and fired. The four agents in and around the vehicles stopped DiBenedetto's men from advancing any closer to the cars.

From his position Bob Paxton saw the entire scene as it fell into pure pandemonium. He saw several of the exposed FBI agents go down and hoped that they had been hit in the vests. He used his own weapon to take out one of the men with a semi-automatic.

Alto knew that there was no way out so he dropped to the ground to wait out the gunfight. DiBenedetto's men fired blindly with automatic weapons all around them hitting several agents before they were shot them selves.

When the gun fire stopped all of DiBenedetto's men lay dead or wounded. Agent Dan Hodges had taken a bullet in the neck and died within moments. Agent Crystal Weise had been shot in the hip and was bleeding badly but wasn't critical.

Alto DiBenedetto slowly sat up after all of the shooting had stopped and raised his hands above his head. Megan allowed one of the other agents to take him into custody as she knelt next to Dan's body. He had a wife and children and she would have to tell them that her husband was dead, that their father was gone forever. Megan knew that this was a risk that every agent took when they took this job but Dan had been a friend, he had been one of the few that she trusted implicitly.

All of the stress and anger and frustration that had built up over the course of this investigation twisted inside of her as she stared down at Dan, his head cradled in her arms. She didn't know when the tears began to drop down her face or how long she sat there with Dan. She didn't even realize that her body had begun to shake with her sobs until a gentle hand rubbed her back and shoulders. She looked up into the face of David Sinclair and saw that his eyes were not dry either.

"They are ready to take him now."

Megan just stared uncomprehending.

"Megan you have to let him go now. We still have a job to do. You still have a team to lead. There will be time to mourn him later."

David spoke in a quiet voice but his words sent a jolt through her body. What was she doing sitting here giving in to her grief. She was the tactical commander of this mission and the job wasn't done yet. She still had suspects to take in for questioning and reports to be filled out. She had other agents who needed assistance.

"How is Crystal?"

David watched as Megan gently lower Dan's head to the ground then he helped her to get up.

"She has been taken to Mercy. The paramedic said that it looked worse that it was. Everyone else is all right. Four men were hit in the vests and are being taken to Mercy also to have x-rays. Just to make sure no ribs were broken. Alto DiBenedetto has been taken into custody along with his driver, his accountant and the two guards that were stunned. Two more of his men were taken to County for gunshot wounds one serious, one minor. The rest are dead including Tony Saborgia and all of his men. The coroner's office is sending a team to bag and tag the bodies, but Dan will be taken by ambulance to _our_ morgue. I called Merrick and he authorized it."

Megan looked up at David grateful for his taking over her aspect of the raid when she flaked out then she remembered his part in this.

"What about Pretoria? Did you get him?"

"Pretoria's dead. He tried to run. We blocked his escape so he turned back toward the mansion but had a little accident along the way."

Megan pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. She contacted the lab and gave them instructions to sweep the entire house for evidence. The FBI had never been able to get a search warrant for Saborgia's home but now that it was a crime scene in a federal investigation she was hoping to find all of the evidence that they could ever want to put the rest of this family behind bars and maybe even strengthen the cases that they had against the LAPD officers and the federal judge not to mention Bill Peterson.

When Megan hung up the phone Bob Paxton jogged up to her. He had a serious look on his face and that made her stomach do a flip flop.

"Agent Reeves. I just got a call from Agent Niagara. Charlie Eppes has been taken to Huntington Memorial."

Both David and Megan spoke in unison.

"What?"

"He wasn't able to give me any details but apparently Dr. Eppes left the safe house and somehow ended up badly beaten and left on some access road beneath the Ventura Freeway."

David and Megan exchanged glances. They both needed to find out what this was all about. Megan turned back to Agent Paxton and thanked him.

"Agent Reeves, I'm sorry… I'm sorry about your agent."

Megan allowed a small smile to show before she nodded and turned toward the tac van. She looked at David and said,

"Go to Huntington. Find out about Charlie, I'll deal with this. Keep me informed ok?"

David nodded and took off after Agent Paxton to ask him for a ride to the hospital. Megan flipped open her phone and called Director Donaldson to tell him about Dan and Crystal. She knew that she had to finish up with the raid and the arrests before she could go to the hospital and find out about Charlie. She knew that she had to make a trip to Dan's home and talk to his wife. This was the part that she dreaded more than anything else, but she wouldn't delay it. Jessica Hodges had a right to know what had happened to her husband so Megan wiped her face and walked purposefully through the throng of law enforcement personnel toward the tac van.


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N –** This chapter is kind of short because I am in a quandary that you the reader might be able to help me with. Charlie did what he did to try and get the contract lifted from his head and Don's. Here is my problem:  
1. Charlie didn't know that the FBI was going to raid Saborgia's place because Pretoria had been spotted.  
2. The FBI didn't know that Charlie had traded information about Saborgia's embezzlement with DiBenedetto to get the contract rescinded.

The FBI teams essentially walked into a Mob civil war set into motion by Charlie and the end result was the death of an Agent that Charlie cared about.  
I do not know if Charlie can be held legally liable in that agent's death. If he could be it would be thin but how is Charlie going to react to this? I want to keep him in character as well as Don, Megan, David etc. I am torn on what direction I should take the characters now. I have essentially written myself into a corner with this plot twist and Dan's death.

- Charlie will be devastated; that makes sense and fits with his character but it what he does about it has me befuddled.  
- Megan is torn up about loosing an agent and a friend under her command. How will she react to Charlie that would be "in character" for her?  
- How will Don respond when he finds out that not only did Charlie do something incredibly dangerous but the result of that action was the death of one of his team?

The most important thing here is to keep the characters 'in character' even if that means a not so happy ending. If there is no way to accomplish this adequately then I will go back and change the last chapter so that no one on the FBI team dies. I don't really want to do that because with the type of firefight that happened it would be highly unlikely that no agents were killed.

Any feedback concerning this would be greatly appreciated. I seriously appreciate your sticking with me through this unbelievably LONG story. It is incredibly complex and that is one of the reasons it has taken so darned long to finish. _Well that and the fact that my muse has gone completely overboard with this tale. :-)_

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

Ever since Agent Parker had left to go get Charlie Don had anxiously waited by the phone. He had stopped thinking about the operation at Saborgia's because all of his thoughts were focused on Charlie.

'_Why did he leave the safe house? Charlie never does anything without a reason. He's been working on helping to pinpoint the informant within the FBI by examining Saborgia's finances. Did he come across some other information in his research; something that would make him leave the safe house without telling anyone? How'd he get all the way across town without a car? Parker said that he wasn't far from here. What were you doing Charlie?'_

Don couldn't stand just sitting there with no answers so he decided that it was time to get some on his own. He wheeled himself up to the desk in front of the phone staring at it. He wanted answers about what Charlie was doing but he was unsure at the moment how to proceed. His head was pounding and he was still feeling dizzy and had some difficulty focusing.

A young nurse stepped up to him and said, "Agent Eppes, you should be resting now."

"I couldn't rest right now if my life depended on it. Thank you for your concern but I need answers, not sleep."

Don gave her what he hoped was a charming smile hoping that she would not try to pull rank and order him to bed. It seemed to work because she turned and went back to her charts. Don sat there looking at the phone trying to decide who he should call to get the most information about Charlie. His father obviously had no idea that Charlie was up to something and even if he knew something he was on his way to the hospital. No he needed to speak to someone who understood how Charlie's mind worked. Someone who knew him well enough to be able to interpret his actions and put them into a coherent picture. Someone Charlie may have confided in…

"Larry!"

"Excuse me?"

Don hadn't realized that he had said Larry's name out loud until the young nurse spoke in confusion. Don was internally chiding himself for not having thought of it sooner.

"I need to call Larry. Do you have a phone book, Miss?"

The nurse looked curiously at her patient before pulling open the large bottom drawer near the middle of the unit desk. She pulled out a large set of white pages and put them on the desk in front of Don. He opened the book and began trying to find Larry's name but his eyes were still slightly blurry and he was having difficulty tracking the small print on the pages.

"What is the last name? I'll find it for you."

Don smiled gratefully up at her. "Fleinhardt, Larry… um... Lawrence Fleinhardt."

It took her a moment flipping through the pages to find Larry's number then she dialed it for him. As soon as the phone started ringing she handed the receiver to Don.

"Hello?"

"Um… Hi, Larry. It's Don Eppes."

Don heard Larry exclaim "Oh my God!" as the phone seemed to drop and hit the floor or the table. Don had to pull the handset away from his ear until the loud clattering on the other end stopped.

"Larry!"

After a moment the physicist's voice came back on the line sounding slightly shaky.

"D…Don? I thought… I mean we were told… Is that really you, Don? You're supposed to be dead!"

Don had forgotten that outside of a few agents and now the staff in the isolation ward everyone else thought that he had been killed over a week ago.

"Larry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Let's just say that the reports of my death have been somewhat exaggerated."

"Exaggerated! Don, my God… Does Charlie know? Are you… are you all right?"

"I was pretty banged up in that explosion, but yeah, I'm fine."

"Explosion? What are you talking about? Are you referring to the terrorist attack at County General?"

"It's a long story. Listen Larry, I'm calling about Charlie. He left the safe house tonight. He snuck out so that no one would know where he went. I need to know what he has been doing. Look Larry, you are his best friend and I'm hoping that he told you something."

There was a pause before Larry began stammering.

"I… Don, I haven't spoken… Charles left? Oh my, oh dear… This most disadvantageous."

"Larry! Look, this is important. I need to know what you know or even what you suspect."

Larry sighed heavily before speaking again.

"The last time I spoke to Charles he and your father had just been taken to that safe house. This was the same day that I saw the news broadcast stating that the FBI Killer had claimed her last victim. You supposedly died of complications from the injury that she inflicted. Charles was devastated, Don; I have only ever heard him cry once before that day. I just don't know how much I should say. I promised Charles that I would stay out of this."

"Larry, I know that he asked you not to say anything but I have to know."

"He asked me to purchase a particular software package and e-mail the program to his laptop in a zip file."

"A program? What kind of program?"

"Its called 'Evidence Eliminator'. It's a data scrubbing program that is designed to wipe a hard drive clean so that even using the most sophisticated forensic analysis equipment no information that has passed through the internet to the computer or had previously been stored on the device can be recovered after the program had been run on the system."

"I'm familiar with it. He wants to hide what he has been doing. Why? He was working openly with David and Megan. They know that he was investigating Saborgia's finances to find the mole."

Don thought for a moment. Charlie had asked Larry to get this software before he started working with David and Megan so it wasn't about that.

"Larry, I need you to tell me everything that Charlie said to you when you spoke to him."

"He sent me an e-mail with the website address to buy this software. He told me to not say anything to anyone about this not even Amita. He wanted me to use a computer in the student union but I decided to take this off campus. I opened an account under an alias to transfer the money to purchase the program and bought it then e-mailed it from a cyber café down the street from Cal Sci."

Don raised his eyebrows at Larry's tactics. He was thinking like an agent… or a criminal; depending on your point of view.

"Larry what else did he say. I can't imagine that you would do this kind of thing without asking why."

"He said that he couldn't tell me what this was about and he begged me not to ask. He said it was something that he _had_ to do for himself and for you. What bothered me was what he said after that. He wanted me to tell Amita that he loved her. He hasn't even had a successful date with her yet but now he wanted to make sure that she knew his feelings for her. The nature of this admission unnerved me quite a bit."

"Did you tell her?"

"I thought that he should tell her that himself. Don, please tell me he is all right."

It was Don's turn to be silent. If Charlie had told Larry to tell Amita he loved her then he was worried that he might not be around to tell her himself. He wanted a data scrubber to erase what he has been doing. He told Larry that he _needed_ to do what ever he was doing for Don and for himself. What could Charlie do that would resolve the situation? What could a math genius do to get rid of a mob contract on their lives? Even with the concussion and pounding in his head Don felt his blood run cold as all of the pieces started falling into place.

"Don? Has something happened to Charles?"

"I don't know the answer to that yet, Larry. He was using a cell phone that had a locator chip in it. He didn't know about that chip. The agent who was here with me has gone to get him. I'll know more later. Look, Larry I promise I'll call you as soon as I know what's going on. I have an idea what Charlie might have been doing but until he gets here I won't know for sure. Until this is resolved you can't tell anyone that we spoke, not even Amita all right?"

"I understand, but call me as soon as you can. It has been such a weight off of my heart to learn that you are alive and well. I would dearly love to give that same gift of relief to Amita. She is as distraught over this as I have been."

Don was taken back by these words.

"You and Amita were… It was me; not Charlie…"

"Don, you and your father are as dear to both of us as Charles is. How could you not know that?"

"I… I just thought that… You are Charlie's friends…  
...You know what Larry, I'm sorry. You're right of course. I guess I just never thought about it like that."

"That's quite all right, Don. Just call me as soon as you can. It doesn't matter what time it is."

"I will, Larry and thanks."

When Don hung up the phone he felt a little choked up. The fact that Larry and Amita had mourned his death both disturbed and touched him. It had really never occurred to him that they would take his death so hard. If it had been Charlie he would have expected nothing less, but he hadn't realized how close he was to the various people in his life. The emotional detachment that was a necessary survival tactic in his line of work had clouded his realization that he had touched so many lives so deeply and vice versa. If anything had ever happened to either Larry or Amita he would be heart broken by their loss not only for Charlie's sake but for himself as well.

* * *

Alan and Agent Warner arrived at Huntington's Emergency room shortly after the ambulance carrying Charlie. Trip met them at the door and guided Alan over to the intake desk so that he could sign Charlie officially into the ER. Alan desperately wanted to go and see his son but he understood that he needed to fill out this paperwork while the doctors examined Charlie.

"Agent Niagara, please tell me the truth; how badly was Charlie hurt?"

"Alan, I'm not a doctor…"

Alan gave him a look that clearly said 'Don't evade my question or there will be hell to pay'.

"…but he was pretty banged up. He has been beaten badly and is unconscious. It looks like his arms were held behind his back because there were no obvious injury to them. His face was too swollen to see much. The EMT's mentioned broken ribs and he is heavily bruised around his chest and belly."

Alan stood steady as he listened even though his knees felt like buckling. He turned back to the forms and began filling them out as a silent tear dropped down his cheek. Trip put a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder for support. Once Alan had finished he asked if he could go back and see his son. The ER receptionist told him to take a seat in the waiting room and she would find out when he could go back.

Jess asked if he should go back up to the isolation ward to speak to Charlie's brother but Trip told him to stay here with Mr. Eppes. He would go up and speak to the agent. He asked Healy to text Bob Paxton with an update on the situation and to call as soon as they were done with their joint operation with the FBI Tac teams. Once all of the situational arrangements had been made Trip walked over to the elevators to go and give the news of his brother to Agent Eppes.


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N – **Thank you all for your feedback both in reviews and PM's. This aspect was tricky for me. I wanted to keep everyone in character have a happy ending but still address the fact that there are repercussions for our actions. The old adage "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" comes to mind.

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

As soon as Trip arrived up on the isolation ward and gave Don the news about his brother he became a man with a single-minded mission. He wanted to get dressed and go down to the Emergency Department to see his brother and no one whether an agent or hospital personnel was going to stop him. Trip recognized the fact that Don Eppes would not be talked into waiting patiently up in the isolation ward so he wheeled him into his room and helped him to get dressed in his own clothes.

The dizziness and nausea were still causing Don problems but he refused to give into them. He understood that he would have to be wheeled downstairs but he was not going to be hampered in his quest. He still had an IV hooked up and he pointedly told the nurse to either disengage the IV or he would do it himself. She turned off the drip and capped it at the back of his hand but insisted that the line remain. The fluid that he was getting at this point was primarily for hydration purposes for he had been switched to oral antibiotics and pain medication yesterday, but she wasn't going to take responsibility for removing the line against doctor's orders.

It took nearly an hour to get Don ready for the trip down to the ER during which time he grew more and more frantically impatient. Trip had to keep reminding him that once they got downstairs he wouldn't be allowed to see Charlie until he had been examined and evaluated by the Emergency Department staff anyway but that did little to assuage the agent's annoyance at the delay.

When they were finally ready to go to the Emergency Department the night nurse who had looked up Larry's phone number for him stepped over to the wheelchair and gave him a slip of paper with a phone number written on it in large numbers that he could easily read even with blurry vision.

"Agent Eppes, This is Larry's phone number. I got the impression that he wanted you to call him when you found out about your brother. I understand why you are going downstairs, but you will need to return to this unit before the end of my shift. I have medications to give you as well as my shift change physical assessment. You don't want me getting in trouble now do you?"

As Don took the slip of paper from the young woman he squeezed her hand and said, "Thank you. I promise I'll be back before the end of your shift."

Alan was pacing nervously in front of the waiting room chairs when Trip and Don came around the corner from the elevators. As they approached Don could see how concerned his father looked. He seemed to have aged ten years since he had last seen him. He also noted how his father seemed to pace the same way Charlie did when he was engrossed in his own thoughts. For some reason the similarities between his father and brother stuck out in sharp contrast in that moment as he watched his father walking in a loop trying to burn off the pent up worry he felt. Alan looked up as he began to turn back to pace in the opposite direction and spotted Don.

"Donnie!"

He quickly walked up to his oldest son and bent to give him a hug. As he stood up he took in how Don was dressed. He looked ready to leave the hospital all except for the wheelchair, the small loop of IV tubing taped to the back of his right hand and the bandage on his head.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be upstairs resting?"

"Have you heard anything about Charlie yet?"

Alan's shoulders slumped a little.

"The last time I checked they said that he had gone to the X-Ray department for rib films and a head CT. That was nearly forty minutes ago. So what is this all about?" Alan said, indicating Don's clothes. "Are they releasing you tonight?"

"No but I figured that if I was coming down here I wanted to actually have clothes on."

"Eppes family?"

Both Don and Alan turned to see who had called that name. A middle aged doctor in a knee length white lab coat was standing near the triage doors looking around the waiting room. Alan wasted no time walking up to the woman and extending his hand.

"I'm Alan Eppes. How is Charlie?"

Trip wheeled Don up next to his father and he also extended his hand to the doctor.

"I'm Don Eppes, Charlie's brother."

"My name is Doctor Belton. I've examined Charlie and have gotten results from his x-rays. Could you follow me and I will fill you in on his injuries?"

Alan took over wheeling Don's chair while Trip moved off to speak to his agents who were seated or standing on the far side of the waiting room. The doctor led them past the main hallway of the Emergency Department and turned left at the first main intersection. Her office was on the right side of the hallway and was remarkable spacious for an Emergency Department office.

There was a bank of lighted panels on the back wall behind her desk that held a series of x-rays on them. Some of the images both Don and Alan recognized as images of a chest and rib cage. There were several broken ribs on those pictures most along the right side of the image but some on the left were broken as well. The other pictures up there were large sheets with several smaller x-ray like images on each sheet. Neither Don nor Alan could determine what those small images were pictures of however.

Alan couldn't take his eyes off of the x-rays that clearly showed so many broken bones in the rib cage and asked in a tight voice, "Is that Charlie?"

"Yes, Mr. Eppes. These are Charlie's chest x-ray, rib series and the head CT. As you can see from these pictures he has seven broken ribs on the left side and three on the right."

"Wait, isn't that his left?" Don interrupted as he pointed at the left side of the pictures as he was looking at them.

"No sir, when we hang x-rays up, we hang them as if the patient were facing us." She pointed to a large white area on the chest x-ray that could be seen underneath the bones of the ribs. "This white area is his heart which, as you know, is on the left. Luckily the fractured ribs have not damaged his lungs but they will take some time to heal. The head scan shows that his left orbit or eye socket has been fractured. It's called a blowout fracture and could have more serious implications."

Alan sat down feeling a little shaky. "What exactly is this blowout fracture and what are the implications of that doctor?"

"The eye socket is a bony cup that surrounds and protects the eye. The rim of the socket is made of fairly thick bones, while the floor of the socket is paper thin in many places. A fracture is a broken bone in the eye socket involving the rim, the floor or both. An indirect orbital floor fracture or a "blowout fracture" occurs when the bony rim of the eye remains intact, but the paper thin floor of the eye socket cracks or ruptures. This can cause a small hole in the floor of the eye socket that can trap parts of the eye muscles and surrounding structures. The injured eye may not move normally in its socket, which can cause double vision. Most blowout fractures are caused by an impact to the front of the eye from something bigger than the eye opening, such as a baseball, a fist. In Charlie's case he has both a blow out fracture and an orbital rim fracture. The blowout happened first and the orbital rim was broken afterward, probably with a second blow to the face."

Don's face turned red as he felt anger well up inside of him. Someone had beaten up his brother and possibly cause terrible damage to his eye and when he found out who had done this he would put his badge and gun away and take matters into his own hands. Alan paled a little but waited patiently to hear what the implications of this injury would be to his son.

"Charlie has regained consciousness now and was able to answer a few questions for me. He is experiencing enophthalmus or sunken eye due to the injury. I believe that the eye muscle is also involved because he was unable to move his eye effectively. I will want to send him to a plastic and reconstructive surgeon who specializes in treating eye injuries. An ophthalmologist will also be called in to deal with the double vision he is experiencing. These specialists will determine whether he needs surgery to repair the broken bone, remove bone fragments, free trapped eye muscles and subsequently eliminate the double vision."

"Will his eye sight be affected by this?" Alan asked the question in a quiet and even tone that belayed the fear he felt about permanent damage.

"I don't believe so but that is really a question for the ophthalmologist. In most cases, the outlook is very good. Even when surgery is needed to repair the fracture, most procedures have a high rate of success and a low risk of long-term complications."

"When would he have to have this surgery, if it is determined that he needs it?"

"Most oculoplastic specialists will wait 10 to 14 days following the trauma to allow for resolution of the associated edema and hemorrhage."

Don looked startled by this news. "Will he have to be hospitalized that entire time?"

"No. Charlie's other injuries should heal with time. He got lucky that he suffered no internal bleeding from the beating. His chest and abdomen are badly bruised but he should be able to go home by the day after tomorrow. I want to keep him here for at least twenty-four hours under observation. He took quite a few serious blows to the head and was unconscious for an extended period of time. As long as he maintains consciousness during his observation period and has no further developments with regard to the chest and abdominal injuries I would be willing to release him into your care, Mr. Eppes."

Alan nodded his head feeling some of the tension ease out of his body at the news that Charlie could come home soon. "Can we see him now?"

"Yes, he has been moved to one of the holding rooms for admittance to the hospital. We simply need to push through the admission papers and find a room for him. If you follow me I'll take you to him." The doctor then turned to Don and looked pointedly down at the back of his right hand then up at the bandage still covering his head. "Are you a patient in this hospital?"

"Um… yeah, but I had to come down here to find out about my brother. There is no way that I could sit upstairs in that room not knowing what was going on."

"What floor are you on?"

"I'm in the isolation ward on the fourth floor."

Dr. Belton's eyebrows shot up at that. "The isolation ward!"

"It's not what you think. I don't have any kind of communicable illness. The location was for other security purposes."

She eyed him suspiciously before moving. Don started to feel a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny but did not want to give her any information that she didn't actually need.

"Look, Dr. Belton, I am a federal agent. I was injured during the course of a classified investigation and I was put where I was put for security purposes. I can't tell you anything else."

"I see, and is your brother also a federal agent?"

"No, he is a professor of applied mathematics, why do you ask?"

"Oh I was just wondering if I was going to have a steady stream of federal agents coming into my ER tonight."

She allowed a wry grin to escape her control as she turned to lead the out of her office and down to Charlie's room.

Charlie looked far worse than either of them had been prepared for. The left side of his face was so badly swollen and discolored that they would not have recognized him except for the mop of dark curls. He was lying in a gurney with the head raised about forty-five degrees with his eyes closed. The shock and anger that registered on both Don and Alan's faces was plainly obvious and did not go unnoticed by the doctor. She motioned for them to wait by the door for a moment as she approached the gurney.

Alan noted how gently she stroked his son's forehead and the tender tone in her voice when she spoke to her patient. While this doctor didn't look anything like his late wife she had the same soothing touch and he felt comforted that this woman was the one looking after Charlie.

"Hey there, I thought I told you no sleeping for a while?"

Charlie didn't move at her touch or words and both Don and Alan saw the frown of concern crease her brow.

"Charlie, I need you to open your eyes now and talk to me."

"Hmm? Five more minutes." Charlie said thickly.

Alan couldn't help smiling at that. How many times had he heard his son utter those same words over the years? Charlie didn't wake up easily. He slept snuggled down in bed with the covers pulled up all the way to his chin and would usually just roll over and utter the plea for just five more minutes at least three times before either he or Margaret would have to literally pull the covers off of him to get him moving.

"Charlie you need to open your eyes now. You have some visitors."

Charlie opened his eyes and groggily looked up at the woman standing over him. His face registered confusion as if he were expecting to see someone else. After a moment the realization of where he was seemed to flicker in his eyes and he looked toward the door. The motion of turning his head seemed to cause him pain as he squinted a little trying to make out who he was looking at. After a moment his eyes opened wide with recognition and even through the heavy bruising and swelling on his face, the emotion that encompassed his features shown through clearly. As a torrent of relief, and happiness at the sight of his family washed over him his voice cracked with emotion.

"Don?"

"Hey, Buddy?"

Alan pushed Don's chair into the room so that he was right next to Charlie's bed. Alan opened his mouth to say something then closed it quickly. He wanted to yell at Charlie for leaving, for getting himself into a situation where he was so badly hurt, for causing him so much fear and anxiety. He couldn't bring himself to say any of those things at the moment, not when Charlie looked so small and fragile. At this point all he wanted to do was to hug his boy and tell him that everything would be all right.

Don had similar thoughts coursing through his brain. He wanted to hug Charlie and throttle him at the same time but unsure what his younger brother could tolerate at the moment he held his tongue.

"You look like crap."

Charlie took in the bandage on his brother's head and the fact that he was in a wheel chair and a slight smile crossed his face but quickly faded as the expression caused pain to shoot through his eye.

"Look whose talking. Are you ok?"

"Am I ok? Charlie, I'm fine. It's you that we're all worried about. What happened to you? Why did you leave the safe house?"

Charlie looked away from Don and down at his hands. He didn't want to talk about this. He had made a deal with Alto DiBenedetto and paid the price for that contact. He could only hope that now DiBenedetto would keep his word and make sure that the contract on their lives was canceled but he wasn't ready to discuss any of this with Don.

"Charlie? Who did this to you?"

"I don't know."

It wasn't a lie. Charlie didn't have any idea who the men were that beat him in front of Alto DiBenedetto. He didn't know their names or have a clear memory of their faces. They were DiBenedetto's men; that's all he knew. Suddenly a thought occurred to Charlie.

"Don, what are you doing here? We aren't supposed to be together. What if they try to…"

Don spoke quickly to calm his brother because he could see the sudden flash of alarm in his face.

"Relax Charlie. This whole thing will be over tonight. It might even be over with right now. Pretoria, the hit man Saborgia hired, was spotted at Saborgia's mansion. Megan and David are leading a tactical unit to arrest both of them. We have direct evidence that ties Pretoria to the explosion and with your help we can prove that Saborgia was paying the FBI mole as well as the LAPD officers and the judge. The team has a warrant to go through Saborgia's mansion to collect enough evidence to put him away for a very long time and Pretoria will be charged with attempted murder."

Don's words did not seem to ease Charlie's anxiety, but rather to increase it.

"Oh God. Can you call Megan and check on the team? Please, Don, just find out if the raid went all right."

"Charlie, what is going on? Why do you think that there could be a problem with the raid?"

A deep voice from the doorway startled both of them.

"Because, there was a problem. Charlie, do you know why Alto DiBenedetto's men were at Saborgia's mansion? Did you know that they would be there tonight?"

David Sinclair looked like hell as he walked into the room.

"Is everyone all right?"

David just stared at Charlie. His emotions were tangled and he didn't trust himself to speak at that moment. Charlie had obviously been seriously beaten and he hated to see his young friend that way, but he also had a bad feeling that Charlie might have been responsible for the complications that occurred tonight. The emotion that was strongest was anger; not at Charlie but at himself. He had known that Charlie had tried to find out information on Saborgia and now in retrospect probably Alto DiBenedetto to use against them. He should have reported this activity to Megan. He should have kept a closer eye on what the young genius was actually doing. David had a pretty good idea what had happened but he wanted to be sure.

"Charlie, did Alto DiBenedetto do this to you?"

Don turned so quickly in his chair to look at David that the shocked expression on his face quickly turned to a grimace of pain because the movement sent a stab of sharp pain through his head. Don held his head between his hands for a second then asked, "David, what are you talking about? What happened?"

David placed a hand on Don's shoulder but never took his eyes off of Charlie.

"Charlie, did you leave the safe house to meet with Alto DiBenedetto?"

Charlie was dead pale now and had started to shake slightly. "What happened? Was anyone on the team hurt? Please, David, tell me what happened?"

"Before we arrived at Saborgia's mansion Alto DiBenedetto and several of his men turned up. There was an intense firefight that left Saborgia and all of his men dead along with at least one of DiBenedetto's. Megan's team tried to take down DiBenedetto and his men when they came out of the house and another firefight ensued. There were causalities on both sides of that fight."

Don looked from David to Charlie. His heart leapt in his throat when he heard that there were FBI casualties. "Who?" was all he asked.

David answered Don but never took his eyes off Charlie's whose had begun to tear up.

"Crystal Weise was shot in the hip. She was taken to Mercy for treatment." David paused before continuing. Both Charlie and Don could see the pain and sorrow cloud his eyes. "Dan Hodges is dead."

Alan and Don both shouted at this news. "No!" "Oh my God" and Charlie looked stricken but couldn't seem to find the words to speak. He tried to say something, he moved his mouth but only a strangled sound uttered forth. Hot tears rolled down Charlie's face as the ramifications of his actions hit him like a freight train.

"It's all my fault." he whispered.

Alan moved to his son's side and took his hand but Charlie pulled away from his father's comforting gesture. "What do you mean, Charlie? How is this your fault?"

It took Charlie a moment to gather his thoughts and make his voice work. "I found out that Anthony Saborgia had been embezzling money from his uncle for the last four years. I contacted Alto DiBenedetto to trade that information for the contract on our lives. Because of the information that I gave to Alto DiBenedetto he went to confront Saborgia. If I hadn't done that then they wouldn't have been there and Dan wouldn't… he wouldn't be dead. I… God help me this is all my doing. I didn't know that you were going there. I… I…"

Charlie never finished what he was saying and he began to wretch. Dr. Belton who had left when Charlie's family entered the room was still standing near by and saw that her patient was in distress. She grabbed an emeses basin from the counter as she ran into the room and unceremoniously pushed past Alan. She thrust the pan under Charlie's chin instructing Alan to hold it as she reached for a large 4X4 gauze pad and held it over Charlie's left eye as he continued to throw up.

"Mr. Eppes you stay and hold that pan, everybody else out now! Jackie!" Dr. Belton called to a nurse passing by outside the room. "Contact CT. I want another head scan and a new set of rib films. Get me some compazine for him and contact Dell Burton. I want him evaluated tonight."

She turned her attention back to her patient and soothingly rubbed his back while still gently holding the gauze bandage over his eye. Once he had stopped throwing up he lay back against the stretcher panting and pale. He was obviously in extreme pain from his broken ribs and couldn't seem to catch his breath. Dr. Belton looked up at Alan to explain what she had ordered.

"The compazine is for the nausea which is a common side effect to a head trauma. I want to make sure that no further damage was done to his eye because of the strain. Throwing up can create a lot of pressure and could cause more damage to the eye itself as well as the damaged floor of the orbit. Dell Burton is the surgeon who is on call tonight. I want him to view the x-rays and examine Charlie just to make sure that this episode didn't cause any serious complications."

She looked down at Charlie and saw tears running down his face from his right eyes. He looked pale and stricken. This episode was not simply caused by trauma induced nausea. Something else had caused her patient's distress. She looked up at Alan and asked pointedly, "What happened here? He is obviously upset about something."

Alan didn't know what to say. He certainly didn't want to tell her anything that the FBI would consider classified.

"A friend of his was killed tonight. He just found out."

Charlie seemed to respond to his father's words by moaning first then he shot forward again as dry heaves began.

"Where is that compazine!" Dr. Belton shouted, as the nursed she had spoken to rushed into the room.

The nurse put the medication into Charlie's IV and the effect was immediate. He stopped retching and lay back heavily against the back of the bed. The drug seemed to make him very sleepy but that didn't stop him from moaning slightly between pants. Dr. Belton instructed the nurse to stay with the patient as she led Alan out of the room and over to where Don and David were speaking in quite tones.

"Please come to my office!"

Alan took the back of Don's chair and followed the doctor with David trailing along behind. She had pointedly looked at each of them in turn when she commanded that they come to her office and so David simply obeyed. Once they were inside Dr. Belton closed the door and turned to face the three men standing there.

"Telling Charlie that someone he cared about was killed this evening was not a wise choice. His condition is not stable enough for him to be put under that kind of stress. When he began to throw up it created pressure in his damaged eye socket and could easily have caused further injury. I am having him evaluated tonight by our on-call surgeon to make sure that irreparable damage has not been done."

Alan was alarmed by those words and the angry tone in this doctor's voice. "Irreparable? My God he isn't going to lose his eye sight is he?"

She fixed him with a stern stare then turned it to David. He must be the one who had brought this dire news to her patient. She could tell that he was also an FBI agent. He still had his tactical unit jacket on that read FBI in large bold white letters on the front and back.

"Agent…"

"Sinclair, ma'am"

"Agent Sinclair, my patient has been severely beaten. He has several broken ribs that could have punctured his lung with the forceful retching that he just experienced. He has suffered a violent trauma to his head and eye and while I'm not a specialist in ophthalmology I can tell you that there is a danger of permanent damage. To bring highly stressful news to someone in his condition is… Well frankly Agent Sinclair it is simply intolerable. I am going to ask that you leave. If you need to confer with your co-worker you must do so away from my patient."

She turned and opened her office door without looking back or waiting for a reply. David felt terrible. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Charlie. His own self anger stepped up a notch and he left without saying anything else to Alan or Don. He didn't want to face him at that moment.

* * *

Megan contacted David after she had spoken to Dan's family. She wanted to check on Crystal and Charlie. David explained that they should meet at Mercy to see Crystal first. Charlie's condition was stable and his doctor wasn't allowing any visitors outside of Don and Alan.

Crystal was in surgery to have the bullet removed from her hip. Luckily it had not damaged the bone too seriously; only a small chip from the outer edge of the top of the femur. The bullet had missed her femoral artery and the prognosis was excellent.

David sat Megan down in the small cafeteria to tell her about what had happened to Charlie both at the hands of DiBenedetto's men and when he had arrived and asked him about how he had acquired his injuries. David also told her about the fact that he had caught Charlie investigating Saborgia illegally and worked out a compromise with him to use the information to tack the mole. He thought that Charlie had given up on his original endeavor after he was allowed to work on the case fining the mole.

Megan sat back in her chair and didn't say anything far a few minutes. She was still raw with emotion over Dan's death and having to break that news to his wife. She felt responsible for his death. She was in tactical command of that operation. It was a bad call to allow her people to engage with armed men without adequate cover. She had allowed her need to capture the mob boss over rule her caution for her people. Charlie's actions complicated things, that was certainly true. If it hadn't been for him then Alto DiBenedetto wouldn't have been there. The operation could have as easily gone badly with or without DiBenedetto's presence. Those vehicles that DiBenedetto parked in the drive did offer cover that would not otherwise have been there for half of her team.

Every different scenario played through her head in the few minutes that she sat holding a cup of coffee and staring into space. David could see that she was processing all of the information that he had given her and waited patiently for her to berate him for his decision to keep what Charlie was doing to himself. Finally Megan looked directly at David and spoke in a low voice.

"This case and all of its complexities, the horror that we have all faced has led everyone to make mistakes; me, you, Charlie. We can't sit around assigning blame to everyone for oversights or errors in judgment or we would never get anything done. Even if DiBenedetto's men weren't at that house the risks were still there. Saborgia actually had more men on site than DiBenedetto. I think that Alto was able to take them all out because they were taken completely by surprise. It is possible that we faced a less dangerous situation because of DiBenedetto rather than the other way round, but we will never really know that. If I had deployed people differently, Dan might still be alive, or someone else might be dead, but again we'll never really know. It has been an all around crap day and it isn't over yet."

Megan took a long pull from her coffee cup. She looked as tired and drained as David felt. He appreciated her view of the overall situation. She was right assigning blame at this point would serve no purpose. He reached over and touched her hand lightly.

"Let's get back to the office and get some of the paperwork started on this mess. It will take forensics at least until morning to collect and catalogue everything. I contacted the DA and was able to get a warrant for DiBenedetto's home based on the gunshot residue found on his hands and the gun in his pocket. A team is already there collecting as much evidence as they can. Who knows, hopefully between what we find at Saborgia's and DiBenedetto's we may just be able to put this entire family away for the rest of their lives.

* * *

Don and Alan waited anxiously for word on Charlie from Dr. Burton. He spent a long time examining him and going over the x-rays with Dr. Belton. Don asked his father to take him back up to the isolation ward so that he could take his medication and let his nurse fill out her report, but as soon as the shift change happened he planned on going right back down to the emergency room.

Dr. Belton met with them shortly after they returned from the isolation ward. Her mood was greatly improved and both of the Eppes men sense that she was going to give them good news.

"Dr. Burton is satisfied that Charlie did not do any further damage to his eye when he became ill. His rib fractures remain unchanged and have not caused any damage to his lungs. I have given him a mild analgesic for the pain. I don't want to give him anything stronger until tomorrow because of the head injury. I am sorry about my ire earlier; I was acting out of concern for my patient."

"There is no need to apologize, Dr. Belton. Both his brother and I deeply appreciate what you are doing for Charlie."

"I have arranged for Charlie to be moved up to the isolation ward with you, Agent Eppes. There are vacancies there and I thought that he would be more comfortable if you were near by."

Don was very grateful to this woman and thanked her for her consideration. After another hour of observation down in the emergency department under the watchful eye of Dr. Belton she signed his transport papers to be moved to the forth floor. Charlie was pretty much out of it most of the time because of the compazine. He never lost consciousness but he was groggy enough that he had to be asked questions several times before he could register the question and then answer it.

Once they had Charlie all settled in a bed in the same room Don had occupied for the past week the midnight nursing staff insisted that Don get changed and also get into bed, pointing out to him that he was still a patient and needed to try to follow some rules. Trip came up to the ward as the nursing staff was helping Don get out of his clothes and offered to take Alan home.

"Are we going back to the safe house?"

"Yes but only to get the rest of your things, and then I'll take you to your own home. Matt, Jess and I will stay with you through the night and bring you back here in the morning. The rest of my team will be heading back to Maryland tomorrow morning."

Alan said good night to both of his boys and left with the NSA agent. He had mixed feelings about leaving the hospital. He didn't want to let his boys out of his sight at this point, but he also couldn't wait to walk through the door of his own home without a death threat hanging over all of them. He consoled himself in the knowledge that he had to prepare the house for both of his son's return home. He would have to take care of both of them and started mentally going through his list of friends and family to determine who he would call in for help.

Charlie was quiet most of the night. He was waked every couple of hours by the nursing staff and asked several questions. At around five in the morning Don became aware that he was awake but he didn't know what had roused him. He listened to the soft chatter of the midnight staff speaking in low tones out at the unit desk then he heard a soft sob. He carefully got out of his bed and wobbled the three steps it took him to move over to Charlie. He sat on the edge of the bed and touched his younger brother's face.

"Charlie?"

"I can't live with this, Don. It's my fault that Dan is dead. He had a wife and three small children. He talked about his baby to dad a lot."

Charlie turned to look at his brother and Don's heart ached to see the hollow nearly dead void now occupying his normally expressive eyes.

"Adam will never grow up to know his father because of me. Ally and Emily will never see their daddy again because of me. When I was lying on the ground Alto put a gun to my head…"

Charlie stopped and Don watched as more tears fell while his brother wrestled with what he wanted to say.

"…I wish he had pulled the trigger."

"Oh God, Charlie, no don't say that. Don't feel that. Look it's terrible that Dan was killed; it's not fair that his kids will grow up without him, but he wouldn't want you to feel this way. He wouldn't blame you, Charlie. He knew the risks when he became an agent. I know that sounds cold, but listen to me; I face those risks the same as David, or Megan or Colby or any of us. I wouldn't want you to blame yourself if it had been me. Neither would David or Megan, none of us would. You didn't know that the tac team was going there. It's not like you planned this."

"I know, Don. And you're right about Dan. He wouldn't blame me…  
…but I do."

With that Charlie turned his face away from his brother.

"Charlie…"

"Go back to bed, Don. I can't talk about this right now; I just have to feel what I'm feeling."

Don realized that Charlie wasn't going to say anything else so he slowly got up and moved back to his own bed. Never in all of his life would he have thought he would hear Charlie wish that he was dead. He didn't know what to do about it. Finally he pushed the call bell and when the nurse came in he asked her to help him get up. He needed to move. He could think better if he were moving.

She helped him into a wheel chair and he made his way out to the unit desk and asked if he could use the phone. He knew it was early but he had to speak to someone about Charlie. He was terrified by his despondency and realized that he had forgotten to make this call earlier in the night anyway.

"Hello?" came the sleepy voice.

"Larry, its Don; I need to talk to you about Charlie."

* * *

**P A/N – **Some of you have wished me well on the job search. I thank you for that concern so cross your fingers. I interviewed for a position with a rural hospital about 33 miles from my home. It is a Monday – Friday overnight shift. That could actually work out quite well for me because by the time I get home from work the kids are in school/daycare and the husband is at work. I could actually get 6-7 hours of uninterrupted sleep on a regular basis! I haven't had that in well over a year. Then when I get up I spend the evening with the family and don't go to work until well after the kids go to bed. When it gets slow during the night shift I could actually spend that time writing! So everyone say a prayer that I get offered this job instead of the other two candidates! 


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N – **Hello to all. I have some good news. I got the job I was hoping for at Clifton Springs hospital! I start on Monday. For the first month I will be working days to train in CT (Cat Scan) and to learn the PACS or digital x-ray system. Then I will move to nights.

During the training I will most likely have precious little time for writing so I am trying my very hardest to get Anxiety finished before Monday. I have some errands that I have to take care of today but I will get right back at it when I get home. I also have no husband and three – no wait- four kids all weekend, but I will still do as much as I can to finish this up before I start my new job!  
I wish to thank each and every one of you who have stuck with this story for so long. It has taken exactly one year to write this thing. I started it in June of 2005! You guys make the hard work all worth it! Bless you all for taking time to read, follow and comment on this and other stories. You make Fan Fiction writing worth while.  
Alice I

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

Larry arrived at the FBI offices toting coffee and bagels within two hours of Don's call determined to speak to Megan and the rest of the team about the events of last night and the circumstances of this case. Larry did not normally try to involve himself in FBI work even though he now found himself co-consulting on many occasions. He had always felt that he didn't need to, nor did he want to know the details of the work that encompassed Don's life. His opinion had begun to subtly change as he and Megan began to develop a relationship and he found himself more and more interested in what she and the rest of the team were doing.

As far as this case was concerned he was not going to take no for an answer when it came to information. He and Don had spoken at length about this case when Don called him from the hospital. Don decided to give him what details he had of last night's events even though they were supposed to be classified. While Larry didn't have Charlie's National Security Clearance he did have clearance for the nature of this case.

Larry's uncharacteristic determination to get as much information as possible was born of the fact that so many people that he cared about were involved. His best friend had been brutally beaten and now felt responsible for an agent's death. The woman that he was fast becoming involved with had her own demons to contend with and for the last two weeks he had mourned the death of a close friend who had not actually died. He wanted answers to all of his questions and he intended to get them.

While Larry listened to Don's explanation of his fears for Charlie he became more and more disturbed by what he was hearing; not only by Charlie's despondency but by Don's verbal self- flagellation. The agent berated himself for not putting everything together after speaking to him the previous evening. Don felt that he should have figured out what Charlie was doing. He said that he could have warned Megan and David about DiBenedetto.

As Larry patiently listened to Don chastise himself for what he felt was a "rookie oversight" his concern for the agent began to match his concern for his young friend. After the third time Don said that it was his fault for not putting the pieces together quickly enough, Larry had heard enough.

"I believe I have heard quite enough Don! You are recovering from a severe concussion as well as the injuries inflicted upon you by that ghastly woman. Your hospital room was bombed rendering you unconscious for a week. You have no cause to expect your deductive faculties to be running at peak efficiency, and lamenting this cognitive shortfall is an ineffectual use of your energy; energy that you need to now focus on Charles. As to warning the tactical team; didn't you just tell me David said that DiBenedetto arrived before they did? If that is the case then both Megan and David knew what they were walking into."

Those words repeated over in Larry's mind as he made his way to Megan's desk. He was certain that Don did not have all of the facts. He wanted to speak to Charles but before he could do that he wanted to know what he was talking about. He wanted to know the exact circumstances of Agent Hodges death and how the rest of the team felt about what the young mathematician had done.

Megan looked up and saw Larry approaching her desk with such fierce determination set in the features of his face that she knew instantly that he had spoken with someone; probably Don. She rose to meet him and waved him into the conference room. David exchanged a look with her as she passed and he too rose from his desk and followed the physicist into the conference room.

An hour and a bag of bagels later Larry emerged from the conference room wearing a troubled expression. David's description of Charlie's injuries had disturbed him deeply and the fact that his eyesight could be irrevocably damaged was not lost on him. David sounded remarkably like Don in his own self recriminations concerning Charlie's actions. Larry gave David the same speech he had bestowed on Don earlier with a few modifications. It seemed to ease some of his angst but Larry wasn't fooled into believing that David would stop blaming himself for the unfortunate outcome of last night's events.

Larry was gratified to learn that none of the agents injured nor in fact any of the agents involved with the raid blamed Charlie for his part in last night's complications. After inspection of the crime scene it seemed that DiBenedetto's arrival and firefight with his nephew left far fewer armed men for the FBI to deal with than if they had taken on Saborgia and his men. The chief tactical investigative officer's report stated that Saborgia's men were more heavily armed than DiBenedetto's men and that a firefight within the mansion would have resulted in higher FBI fatalities. Bearing this information in mind Larry left the FBI office and drove to Huntington Memorial.

* * *

Agent's Warner and Parker took Alan back to the hospital the next morning while Trip headed back to the safe house to close out the apartment rental with the owner of the building. Alan had contacted several family members when he arrived home the previous evening. Aunt Irene was going to be staying with them for a week, a little to Alan's dismay. He certainly didn't begrudge the help and Irene had always had a soft spot for the boys, but living with her sharp barbs for a week was going to try his nerves. Still all in all he was willing to put up with just about anything to see both of his son's through this experience and perhaps he and his wife's aunt might actually find some common ground in the process.

Stan promised to stop by in the evenings to keep Alan up to speed on their business meetings and client contracts as well as helping in anyway that he could, even if it was to get Alan out of the house and away from Aunt Irene for a hour or two. Alan's brother, Mike, was going to fly to LA and would arrive four days after Irene settled in to the family home. He had thought about contacting Larry and Amita but by the time he finished calling his family it was quite late. He wasn't sure what he should tell them either. Both Larry and Amita believed that Don had died and he knew it would be a shock for them to find out the truth. He decided that he should speak to them in person.

Visiting hours didn't start until eight o'clock in the morning and Alan had gotten a late start from the house because he spent the bulk of the morning preparing places for both of his son's downstairs. With Don's fractured skull and concussion and Charlie's multiple broken ribs he didn't want to chance either one of the boys trying to navigate the stairs. He then prepared Charlie's room and the spare bedroom for Irene and Mike so that they would be comfortable.

Even though Alan began getting they house ready at six o'clock in the morning they didn't leave for the hospital until after nine AM. Alan was therefore shocked beyond measure to find Larry Fleinhardt sitting in the recliner next to Don bed when he arrived speaking quietly to his oldest son.

"Larry! What are you doing here? How did you… I… Who called you? I was going to come and see you today."

"I called him Dad."

"Believe me I nearly fainted when Don contacted me. For a moment I thought I had passed into another dimension, hearing a voice from the grave speaking to me so clearly over the telephone."

"Does Amita know?"

"No I have yet to speak to her. Don requested that I not say anything until the situation was resolved. When I leave here I will go and see her to let her know what has happened. I imagine that you will also need some assistance at home when Charles and Don are released from the hospital. Having two recuperating and very stubborn patients to contend with will be a full time job all by itself."

"Hey! I am not stubborn!"

Both Larry and Alan looked at Don without saying a word. They didn't need to because their expressions spoke clearly enough what both men thought of that ludicrous statement.

"Ok, ok I may be a little stubborn, but…"

Alan held up his hand to stop his older son's objections and as he did so he looked at Charlie's bed. It was empty.

"Where's Charlie?"

"He was taken down to another unit to be examined by the ophthalmologist and the plastic surgeon, Dad. They said he should be back by ten-thirty."

Don looked up at his father and asked him to take a seat in the recliner that Larry had just vacated to walk over toward the window.

"Look Dad, I called Larry and told him everything that was going on. Charlie said something to me this morning that really bothered me."

Alan saw the seriousness in Don's eyes and he sat down feeling a fear begin to grow in the pit of his stomach.

"Dad, when Charlie met with Alto DiBenedetto at some point he held a gun to Charlie's head to get some information from him; probably a password to open the disk that Charlie gave him."

Alan paled at these words. If Charlie had not done whatever it was that the Mob boss wanted he was certain that his boy would be dead.

"Charlie said that he wished that DiBenedetto had pulled the trigger."

"What? Oh my God! Why… Donnie, why would he say that?"

"Charlie feels responsible for Dan Hodges death. Larry went to the office before coming here and he got all of the details about last night's raid. When Charlie gets back, I think we should let Larry talk to him; alone."

Alan looked over at Larry and felt a torrent of emotions pass through him. Larry had been more than a teacher or mentor to Charlie. He was truly his son's best friend and would go to the ends of the earth for him or in Larry's case the ends of the cosmos. Larry had always been able to get through to Charlie in a way that only Margaret had ever been able to. He was grateful to this man for always standing steadfast by his son, and deeply appreciated the offer of help with the boys when they were released from the hospital. Even with these feelings, a part of Alan's mind felt jealous that Larry wanted to comfort Charlie when despair troubled his heart. He was Charlie's father, he had nursed him when he was ill, he had comforted him when he was scared or hurt. Wasn't it his place to be there for his son now? How could this man want to take a father's place at his son's side while such fell thoughts ran through his mind?

Larry must have been able to read the emotions that the older man was feeling because he stepped away from the window and came over to sit on the edge of Don's bed facing the older man.

"Alan, please understand that I am not trying to take the place of a loving parent. It would take me awhile to tell you everything that I have learned from Megan and David concerning this matter and I am uncertain what I should reveal to you and what would be considered classified. I gave Megan very little choice in the matter when I approached her this morning."

"That's alright, Larry. I suppose that you shouldn't tell me everything that happened, and to be honest I'm not entirely sure I want to have all of those details. What I am sure of is that Charlie did not act against his true convictions. His heart was in the right place and he acted with an honorable cause in mind. He was only trying to save his family from what he saw as an irrevocable threat. Perhaps you should be the one to speak to him. Charlie has always listened to you and followed your advice."

"Well, I'm not sure that is all together accurate, but I have on many occasions been able to break down his stubborn defenses. Charles is a logical man and will see reason when it is presented to him in an ordered structure. I may lay the facts out for him and offer my support as a friend but he will still need the comfort of his family above anything I can say to him. That is where the true healing of this entire abysmal experience will come."

Charlie arrived back on the isolation ward just past ten thirty. Larry was appalled by his appearance and he stayed in the room so that he could speak with him while Alan and Don left to consult with the ophthalmologist.

Larry sat for a moment looking at Charlie before speaking. Charlie couldn't seem to meet his gaze. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the pillows and spoke softly to his friend.

"I know what you must be thinking. If you had known what I was up to you never would have helped me. I was so focused on what I wanted to accomplish that I didn't consider the fallout of my actions. It's not for me…"

Charlie opened his eyes then and looked directly at Larry.

"I wanted this price off our heads and what happened to me happened. I don't really care about that, but because of what I did a good man was killed; a father, a husband. My life isn't worth that price. Even Don's life isn't worth the price an innocent man paid."

Larry sat back studying Charlie. It was clear that he was taking the full burden of this agent's death on himself.

"Charles, you are an immeasurably gifted mathematician, and you have the ego to go along with that brilliance."

Charlie had not expected that response and opened his good eye wide in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something but Larry cut him off.

"Like Ptolemiac Theory, you are making the assumption that the events of last evening were centered on you and your actions. You are presuming that Agent Hodges would be alive and well if Alto DiBenedetto were not at Anthony Saborgia's mansion last night. This assumption is in error. I spoke with Megan and David and have seen the tactical investigative officer's report of the scene. You do not have all of the pertinent data."

"What are you talking about? The FBI didn't know that DiBenedetto was going to show up and have a shoot out with them. It was one of DiBenedetto's men that killed Dan!"

"I am only suggesting that you take a more Copernican view."

Charlie was getting irritated and his ribs were sore enough to labor his breathing, but that didn't change the tone of his almost breathless voice.

"A Copernican view? Larry the fact remains that what I did caused Alto DiBenedetto to go to Saborgia's place armed and ready to fight."

The fire left Charlie's voice as he winced in pain. When he continued it was with defeat in his tone.

"I don't see how this whole incident doesn't rest fully on my shoulders. I dealt with this problem with tunnel vision not considering the ramifications or the collateral damage that it would cause."

"Once again Charles, you are jumping to conclusions that are unsupported in fact. This is very sloppy and not on par with your usual meticulous standards in logical deduction. Both Megan and David knew of Alto DiBenedetto's presence on the premises before they arrived. The fact that DiBenedetto's men killed all of Anthony Saborgia's men left a smaller hostile force for the FBI tactile teams to deal with. The fact that Alto DiBenedetto was found to have gunshot residue on his hands and the gun that shot Anthony Saborgia in his possession left the FBI the means to get a warrant to search all of Mr. DiBenedetto's businesses and his home for information relating to the investigation. With that warrant it is likely that between the search of both DiBenedetto and Saborgia's home and business holdings the authorities will be able to gather enough legitimate evidence to shut down one of the most powerful crime syndicates in Southern California."

Charlie just sat there staring at Larry not knowing what to say. Some of the guilt that weighed so heavily on his heart lifted a little. Larry could see his young friend processing what he had been told and felt as though he had reached him which lightened his own heaviness. Larry saw Charlie wincing in pain again and placed a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Let me get the nurse. It seems to me that you could use some pain medication."

Charlie smiled wanly at his mentor which turned to another grimace of pain. Larry got up quickly and left for the unit desk outside just as Alan, Don and the ophthalmologist were finished speaking. Alan turned to Larry with a smile on his face which eased Larry's mind. They must have gotten good news about Charlie.

"How is he feeling, Larry?"

"Right now he is in pain. I've come out to see if he can be given something for that. I take it you had good news about his eyesight?"

Alan and Don both looked very concerned by Larry's statement but Alan answered Larry inquiry first.

"The damage to his eye looks worse than it actually is. The optic nerve is intact and the problems he had moving his eye last night are not apparent today. The doctor said that it is quite possible that the previous muscle impingement corrected itself as the swelling abated."

It was Larry's turn to look concerned.

"His eye and face were more swollen last night?"

Don glanced over toward the door to their shared room.

"Believe it or not, yes. He may look pretty bad right now but he looked far worse last night. You said he's in pain. Is it from his broken ribs?"

"If his labored breathing is an indication I would say that is what is causing his discomfort at the moment."

Alan stepped closer to the physicist.

"How is he _feeling_ now that you have had a chance to speak with him?"

"He has a lot to think about but I believe I was able to put things into perspective for him a little better."

Dr. Belton stepped up to the men as they spoke. She looked exhausted but smiled a greeting to them that belayed the circles under her eyes.

"Good morning gentlemen. I wanted to know how Charlie was doing this morning. I spoke with Dr. Chooen and he told me that the prognosis was good for his eye and his eyesight."

Alan smiled a little. "That is the best news we have had all morning. Larry here is a close friend and he has been speaking with Charlie about what happened last night…"

This caused Dr. Belton to frown.

"…not to upset him, Doctor, but to ease his mind. Charlie felt responsible for that death I mentioned to you. Larry helped him to see things from a different point of view, but he is in a lot of pain with the broken ribs. Is there something that he can have to help with that?"

"Charlie is no longer my patient but I will be happy to examine him and make a recommendation to the attending on the floor."

With that she moved off to the room and closed the door behind her. When she came out she went immediately to the unit desk to speak with the charge nurse. After a few minutes she stepped over to Alan and the others.

"I have asked the charge nurse to order some pain medication for Charlie. He looks better today and hasn't had any unresponsive episodes during the night so it should be safe to give him those kinds of drugs now."

She pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it to Alan.

"I am off now, but if you have any questions or concerns about Charlie please feel free to give me a call."

"Thank you very much Dr. Belton. We really appreciate everything that you have done."

The nurse came over to where Alan, Larry and Don were glancing at her watch as she approached.

"Excuse me gentlemen, but Agent Eppes needs to go back to his room now. The doctors will be here any minute to make rounds and if he wants to be released he needs to be seen."

Don didn't need to hear any more than that. He took hold of the wheels on the sides of the chair and wheeled himself into the room before Alan could put the card that Dr. Belton had given him in to his pocket. Larry left to go speak with Amita and Agents Warner and Parker told Alan that they would go down to the cafeteria for coffee while the doctor examined his son's.

"Are you heading back to the east coast today?" Don asked over his shoulder as he navigated the chair through the doorway into the room. Jess is the one who answered.

"That depends on what Director Thompkins tells Trip this morning. There will be paper work to do and cars to return. We may be around for another day or two, but either way we'll make sure we say goodbye before we leave."

Charlie turned his face toward the door.

"You're leaving?"

Jess stepped into the room after Don and Alan had cleared the doorway, then stepped over to Charlie's bed.

"I'm not sure when we leave. I'm kind of hoping that we'll be around long enough to see you safely home."

"Well I suppose with Saborgia and Pretoria both dead and DiBenedetto in jail there isn't much reason for you to stay."

"Everything depends on what Director Thompkins says to Trip today."

Charlie remembered the package he had asked Trip to send certified mail to Director Thompkins.

"I gave Trip a package to send certified mail to Bob Thompkins. Did he do that yet?"

"Yeah, he sent it overnight. The director should have it by now, why?"

Charlie didn't look too happy. He wished that he could stop the package from arriving but it was too late.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just… it's nothing."

Jess wasn't convinced but he let the matter drop. He would call Trip when they left and find out what the package was all about. The two NSA agents left the isolation ward as a small group of doctors with medical students came in doing rounds.

Trip was already on his way to Huntington when Jess called him about Charlie's reaction to the package he had mailed for him. Trip had already received a call from Director Thompkins who had received the package nearly two hours ago.

Trip had contacted Megan and gotten an update on Charlie's condition and was able to give a fairly detailed report of all of last night's events to the director who instructed Trip, Jess and Matt to stay in LA at least until the Eppes men were out of the hospital and home.

Bob Thompkins was a quiet man who approached almost every situation with a calm reserve but what ever was in that package had rattled the director and it showed in his voice. Trip knew better than to ask what the package was but he felt a little uneasy by the disquiet it caused in his boss.

Don was cleared for release from the hospital after the morning rounds but they wanted to keep Charlie until the next day due to his injuries and prolonged loss of consciousness the previous evening. Don and Alan stayed with Charlie until four o'clock when he insisted that they go home. He wanted to sleep anyway and they were doing no good just sitting around the hospital.

Don had noticed that his brother seemed less depressed but he still had a decided air of melancholy about him. He left somewhat reluctantly with his father and the three NSA agents but told Charlie that they would be back in the morning.

When Alan and Don arrived home Don had begun to feel very dizzy again and had a little trouble getting up the front steps to the house and was beginning to wonder that the vertigo and nausea were going to be permanent additions to his life. He had wanted to make a trip to Cedar's to see Colby but that idea was stoutly vetoed by his father.

"Don, you are in no condition to go gallivanting around town. You need to rest and recuperate. That was the condition agreed upon so that you could be released from the hospital."

"I know, Dad. I just wanted to check on him and see how he's doing."

Don sounded a little defensive and Alan understood how his son felt. He too was concerned about the welfare of the agent who had saved his son's life.

"I'll give Megan a call and get an update for you. Once you can get through a full day without nearly passing out or throwing up, and if he is allowed visitors, I'll personally drive you there myself; deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

Charlie had a hard time sleeping that evening. He had thought about what Larry said to him and it did ease his guilt over Dan's death, but he still felt as though he had acted against the principals he had grown up with. As he lay in bed he went over everything that had happened over the last several weeks in his mind, trying to find some justifications for his actions.

The anxiety attacks had stopped, but he remembered how intensely frightening they had been. That kind of constant stress was more than adequate explanation for setting up a negative mind set. He thought about the printing press room and listening to Jon being brutally murdered and then knowing that he was also about to die.

As he thought back to that moment in time he realized that he harbored some anger that he was not murdered the way Jon had been. Shelly Arbury had purposely kept him alive, and forced him to listen to what she had done to the agent; allowing him to believe that he was going to suffer the same fate. Then when she stapled that note to his chest and drugged him rather than killing him. He was left only with the memory of Jon's screams, the smell of his blood and the sounds of his death to consume his thoughts.

That was when he began to feel his heart turning cold and ruthless. That was when he began to know true hatred. It scared him that he had the capacity to feel those things, yet the rage burning inside also acted as catharsis for him. It allowed him to get a firm grip on the fear that had plagued him from the onset of this case. It allowed him a measure of control while motivating him into action, but at what price?

As he sat in front of his mother's grave a new fear entered his soul. Was he really turning into the type of person capable of the atrocities committed by Shelly Arbury or any of a hundred other homicidal criminals? He remembered questioning when a person becomes like Shelly Arbury. What was the catalyst that caused a person to become cruel; to act without conscience?

He thought that after the moment in the storeroom when he couldn't shoot her, when he only pulled the trigger to keep her from plunging a knife into his brother's chest that he had conquered those demons, but he wasn't so sure about that anymore.

When he contacted Alto DiBenedetto to trade the information about his nephew embezzling money from him to get the contract on their lives rescinded he knew that DiBenedetto would kill Saborgia. DiBenedetto had nearly killed him just for looking into his personal and business financial records.

No matter how Charlie tried to justify his actions he still knew perfectly well that he was culpable in the death of many people. Anthony Saborgia and the men that worked for him were by no means innocent bystanders but they are all dead now because of a choice that he made. When he handed that disk over to Alto DiBenedetto he might just as well have pulled the trigger himself.

This is what kept him awake now. He still felt horrible about Dan's death but he had decided that Larry was right. He was not responsible for that death. He was, however, responsible for all of the others and he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

He remembered what he had said to Don that afternoon in the cemetery sitting in front of his mother's grave. The words echoed hollowly in his head.

"_I have never believed that people are born evil. If that were true then evil would be a symptom, a biological anomaly. It would be something that is quantifiable, something that can be measured and predicted. So what makes a person evil? What experiences change a person's basic makeup and twist it into something that it wasn't before that experience? This woman, this killer; she was an infant at one time. Was she evil then? She was a toddler, a little girl, a teenager, a young woman. When did she change from the innocent that she was at birth to the kind of person who can do the things that she is doing? What made her feel so much hatred?"_

"_I feel so much hate for this woman that I feel like I'm losing myself. Is this the experience that begins to change me into something that I wasn't before this all happened?"_

"_I'm not naive nor am I innocent, Don. I know that there are unimaginable horrors in this world. There really are monsters. Will I be one in ten years time?"_

Had he actually taken the first steps down the road that would lead him to becoming no better than Shelly Arbury? Had his soul begun to fester and decay somehow allowing him to willingly and knowingly cause another human being's death? These thoughts; these unanswerable questions plagued him throughout the night. By morning he was convinced that he had become what he feared. He had become the '_monster'_.


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N – **Hello! I'll bet you were thinking that I had forsaken you all. The new job is going well. I switch to the night shift tomorrow night. This chapter was supposed to be the final chapter with maybe an epilogue but you have all waited so patiently that I decided to post it in two parts. I just finished what I am putting here now. I'll keep working on the rest of it and get it up as quickly as I can. Thank you so very much for being patient. I truly appreciate it.  
Alice I

**Chapter Fifty**

Don was anxious to leave early for the hospital the next morning. He had contacted Larry the previous evening to talk with him about the conversation he had with Charlie. This served a dual purpose for Don. Larry was able to alleviate some of his concern about his younger brother's despondency over Dan Hodges death while also giving the agent a more detailed picture of the events surrounding the raid.

A small voice in the back of Don's mind found it a little odd that he was getting details of an FBI operation from a civilian physicist but neither Megan nor David had been able to get away from their work to brief him. Evidence was still being collected and catalogued from the crime scene as well as DiBenedetto's holdings. Megan was working on her report concerning her side of the operation while David wrote his own report of the events associated with Pretoria's death.

Charlie assured Don that he was fine when he, Trip and his father arrived at the hospital but none of the men were totally accepting that as fact. Charlie was too quiet. The next two days were an exercise in frustration for the young mathematician even though he never let on that he felt any sort of aggravation.

It was clear that he wanted to go home but the doctors wanted to keep him for another forty-eight hours to be sure that there were no latent effects from the concussion, and because he had an appointment with the plastic surgeon about his eye.

The broken ribs, while not life threatening, were causing enormous pain. Every time he moved it sent white hot daggers through his chest and back yet he refused the pain medication that was offered to him claiming that the pain was manageable. Don got the impression that Charlie was refusing out of some warped sense of penance but his younger brother adamantly denied that any time Don brought the matter up.

When Don spoke to him about Dan, trying to gauge his feelings, he came away satisfied that his brother no longer blamed himself for the agent's death, but he still had the feeling that there was something else under the surface that was bothering Charlie; something he wouldn't talk about.

Charlie easily obeyed the nurses and doctors regarding his care and that set off a few alarms in Don's mind. Charlie had never been a particularly good patient. Even their mother had difficulty getting her youngest to take his medicine when he was ill or staying down and quiet when he needed to. Except for his polite refusal to take the proffered pain meds, Charlie had meekly complied with all of the breathing exercises and concussion checks that he had been asked to do. The repeated questioning about the date, who the current president was, his full name and that of his parents should have irritated him to no end but he quietly and patiently answered these questions as if by rote.

None of this sat well with Don. This behavior was uncharacteristic but when ever Don tried to talk to Charlie he would simply shut down and claim fatigue. Don needed answers. Even though both Larry and Trip had told him everything that they knew it wasn't enough. There was something about the events of that evening that were burning a hole in his brother's heart. It was time to call Megan and David.

She and David met Don and Trip in the main floor cafeteria late in the afternoon the day before Charlie was supposed to be released from the hospital. As he listened to his fellow agents give their accounts of what had happened during the raid at Saborgia's mansion, Don felt himself becoming more alert.

He hadn't realized how much he missed working. Taking in the details of the case presented in a briefing format awakened his investigative instincts that had lain dormant for the last few weeks. Even though he was still plagued by dizzy spells, headaches and nausea he was able to compartmentalize those irritants as his training kicked into gear and he focused on the matter at hand.

Don heard regret in Megan's voice as she described her side of the tactical operation. He knew that she was questioning her decision to engage DiBenedetto's men while half of her team didn't have adequate cover.

"Megan you can't beat yourself up over this. There are many instances that call for engagement without cover. This was a tough call that you had to make quickly. If I had been in tactical command I don't think I would have done anything differently."

"I know, Don. It was a bad situation all around, and I know that Dan and Crystal knew the risks going in, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with though."

"How is she?"

"Crystal is doing very well. The bullet missed anything vital. She had a bone chip removed from her hip and she should be released sometime today. She'll be out for another week and on limited duty for another two weeks."

Don turned to face David who had been sitting quietly listening to the exchange between Don and Megan.

"So David, what happened on your end?"

Partway through David's report Don held up his hand to stop him.

"Hold on, didn't you say that Pretoria was driving an Escalade? How did he end up flying through the windshield? That vehicle has a driver's side airbag standard on all models."

"Yes well that particular series had a recall out due to a defect in the driver's side airbag. Apparently they weren't deploying duringhead on collisions. Either Pretoria ignored the notices that were sent out or he never got them because he moves around so much. The vehicle was registered to him but the address on the registration is a PO box in Long Beach. The recall notices were sent there. We have someone going out to that address to collect all of the mail in that box this afternoon."

Don sat back looking from Megan to David.

"OK if Pretoria's dead, Saborgia's dead and DiBenedetto's in custody where does that leave us? Is there still a contract out on Charlie and me?"

The two agents glanced at each other before Megan answered Don.

"David and I are the ones who conducted the interrogation of Alto DiBenedetto. Because we found GSR on his hands and the weapon that killed Anthony Saborgia in his position covered in only his finger prints we are charging him with Saborgia's murder. David let it slip that we were there serving a warrant on Saborgia and Pretoria and that he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He has no idea that we even know about Charlie or the encounter he had with him earlier that evening. What ever agreement DiBenedetto and Charlie came to should still be intact but I want to keep both of you under protective custody for the time being."

Trip who had sat back so quietly that the other agents had almost forgotten his presence spoke up at this point.

"Agent's Warner, Parker and I will be staying with you at least until Charlie is released from the hospital tomorrow. Once you are all settled at home the others will be reassigned but I willstay longer depending on how the FBI investigation wraps up."

Megan nodded her thanks to Agent Niagara. "There will also be two agents stationed outside the house when you and Alan are home."

"Yeah thanks, I saw them. So how much longer do you think it will be before you get this sorted out?"

David smiled broadly as he opened a thick folder.

"We're still collecting evidence from the homes and businesses of Saborgia and DiBenedetto. We also found the disk that Charlie gave to DiBenedetto. Now we can't use that disk as evidence but our forensic accountants are using it as a guide to reconstruct the money flow for the entire family. They aren't finished by a long shot, but it looks like we will be able to tie all the key players to money laundering, smuggling, extortion, drugs, guns, the whole gambit. Don, we have enough to shut down the most powerful crime syndicate in southern California largely due to Charlie's work. That disk of his is highlighting the connections that our people could not have found without it."

This was a far better outcome than Don could have hoped for. He sat there dumbfounded at the turn of events and Megan smiled slightly at his expression.

"We have warrants being generated as we speak. Merrick has the entire division dedicated for the next week to making arrests. This is huge Don! Once we have the major players in custody we should be able to take the agents off of you and your family."

Don smiled the biggest smile he had felt in weeks, but it faded slightly when Megan spoke next.

"So how is Charlie doing? Can we go see him?"

Both David and Megan saw how the smile left Don's face to be replaced with a look of concern.

"What is it, Don?"

"That's just it, David; I don't know. Something is eating him but he won't talk about it. At first it was because he felt responsible for Dan Hodges death."

"He's not responsible!" Megan interjected vehemently. "There was no way he could have known what was happening. If anything we faced a smaller hostile force after the shootout between DiBenedetto and Saborgia."

"I know, Megan and after Larry spoke with him, I think he knows that too. Something else is wrong. I was hoping that after speaking with you I might get a better idea as to what is bothering him, but you haven't told me anything that would explain it."

Megan reached across the table and squeezed Don's hand.

"Charlie has been through a lot, your whole family has. Give him time, Don."

* * *

Charlie was actually pleased to see Megan and David and smiled when they entered his room. It seemed to have been ages since he had last seen or spoken to the agents who worked so closely with his brother. Charlie had maintained consciousness, the nausea had abated and he was able to move his eye much better as the swelling from his injuries began to subside which boded well for his release from the hospital.

After their brief visit with Charlie, Megan once again reassured Don that she felt that Charlie would recover from his experience given time and love from his family yet Don still felt a gnawing doubt in the pit of his stomach. Charlie's words from the other morning echoed in his mind adding strength to his reservations.

_"When I was lying on the ground Alto put a gun to my head…  
_…_I wish he had pulled the trigger."_

Dr. Belton stopped up once more after her shift in the emergency department to check on Charlie. Both Don and Alan were a little surprised that this doctor had taken so much interest in a patient that was no longer her responsibility when one of the isolation nurses told them that Dr. Belton was unique in that way. She felt a vested interest in all of her patients and it was not uncommon to see her away from the ER to see how a patient she had initially cared for was doing.

Don saw the first genuine smile grace his brother's face shortly after his visit with the ER doctor when he was told by his surgeon that he had been cleared for discharge. His surgery was scheduled to take place in ten days time and by then the swelling should have almost completely faded away. Megan's comments that Charlie just needed some time to recoup rang in Don's mind even though he still had lingering concerns. His brother's smile went a long way to quieting those fears and the fact that Charlie seemed to come to life with anxiousness to get the discharge process complete also helped to reassure the agent.

Charlie was quiet and pensive on the trip home which caught the attention of Trip who was still concerned by the young man's out of character behavior. Like Don he had felt a piercing dread when he heard what the mathematician had said about wishing he had been killed. That was so uncharacteristic of the man he had known for four years that he had difficulty reconciling it. He had contacted Director Thompkins shortly after he had spoken to Don. Matt Warner and Jess Parker were due to fly back to the east coast the next day but Bob Thompkins wanted Trip to remain in LA with the Eppes family a little longer and if he could wrap up his current project he planned to fly out himself to see his friend.

When they arrived at the house, Charlie relaxed visibly as he entered his life long home and made his way gingerly to the couch. It was so clear by his body language that Charlie felt a hundred percent better to be home that Don began to feel that perhaps Megan had been right and all Charlie needed was a little time.

Aunt Irene was at the house anticipating the arrival of the youngest Eppes. She gasped when she saw him and immediately began fussing over him even more so than she had done with Don. Irene cared deeply for both of her great-nephews, but she had a particular soft spot for Charlie and nearly fainted when she saw how dreadful his face looked with the injuries he had sustained. As different as her youngest great-nephew was from his mother, Charlie still always reminded Irene of Margaret.

Oddly enough the genius wasn't bothered by Aunt Irene's fussing for once he was comfortably situated on the couch he promptly fell asleep so she turned her full attention on Don.

"You, young man should also be resting."

Don began to protest that he felt fine but Irene cut him off quickly.

"Nonsense! You will come into the den and lie down. I'll wake you when lunch is ready in an hour or so."

Don glanced helplessly at his father for support but Irene, moving remarkably quickly for a woman in her late seventies, stepped in between father and son.

"Now don't go looking to him! I'll broach no argument on this matter; besides your father has to leave for the airport right now."

Alan rolled his eyes at Irene's commanding tone but made sure he had a straight face when she turned around to look at him.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, Alan Eppes! Now scoot before you're late,"

Alan left his son's in Irene's care and wondered as he got into his car how a woman who had never had children of her own had developed the parental "eyes" in the back of her head. As he drove to the airport his spirits began to lift. His boys were home at last; safe if not completely sound. The man who had been hired to murder them had been unsuccessful and was now dead himself along with the man who had paid for the hit. He was on his way to meet his brother Mike whose presence would help to take the sting out of Irene's demanding presence. This whole nightmare was over and all his family needed now was peace and quiet and love to heal.

Alan was a little confused by the continued presence of the remaining NSA agent and the FBI guard posted outside the house until Don explained that they didn't want to take any chances until all of the arrests of the DiBenedetto mob had been successfully executed.

Alan didn't begrudge these men's presence; indeed he was eternally grateful for everything that they had done for his family, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he had while still being guarded. As he thought this he glanced into his review mirror and saw the black FBI sedan that had tailed him from home and sighed.

* * *

PS: I have a web site now. It is just a shell at the moment but I do have pictures of my wee ones up on the pics page. The address is:

atylock dot googlepages dot com

I just figured that you all have heard so much about my little ones that you might be interested in seeing what they look like.  
Have a lovely day folks.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter Fifty-One**

Mike's plane arrived on time and the two men greeted each other with a heart felt hug.

"How was the flight?" Alan asked, as he picked up his brother's carry-on bag.

"Extremely comfortable thanks to _someone_."

"What do you mean?"

As they walked over to the escalators to go down to luggage claim Mike eyed his older brother suspiciously before continuing to speak.

"_Someone_, who whished to remain nameless, upgraded my coach ticket to first class."

Alan looked over at Mike in complete confusion. Mike had stressed the word 'someone' now twice as if he should know what this was all about.

"Are you doing that well that you can afford to drop nearly a grand just to get me out of coach?"

"You think I…  
Mike, I am doing fairly well especially since I sold the house to Charlie and my consulting business has taken off, but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with your travel arrangements. Didn't the airline tell you who had changed the tickets?"

"All I was told was that the new accommodations were made out of gratitude for my time in service to National Security. I immediately assumed that they had confused me with some other passenger but they asked me if I was Michael Eppes traveling from LaGuardia to LAX and when I told them I was they assured me that there had been no mistake. At that point all I could think was that you had arranged it and that the National Security bit was some sort of cryptic message to me."

Alan was staring at his younger brother with a sort of smirk on his face and an incredulous look.

"You _do_ know something about this don't you?" Mike accused seeing the look on his sibling's face.

"Well, not exactly but I think I might know who made the change to your ticket class."

They stepped off the escalator at the ground floor and once they had cleared out of the way for the passengers behind them Mike stopped dead in his tracks and said, "So!"

Alan seemed to come out of a brief reverie and smiled.

"Charlie consults for several agencies including the NSA. He is a close friend to the director and during this whole affair we've had NSA agents protecting us. I would guess that it was Director Thompkins who may have arranged for the change in your ticket. He seems to be very fond of Charlie and as I have come to realize it is an extremely good thing to have people in positions of power be fond of you. Without their help it is entirely possible that you might have been flying out here for a different reason."

The fact that Alan's voice trailed off and his face went pale at that suggestion drove home to Mike how perilous the situation out here with his family had become.

Alan moved over to the benches along the far wall of the baggage claim and sank weakly down burying his face in his hands. All of the sudden the ramifications of everything that his family had been through hit him like a ton of bricks. He began shaking as the pent up anxiety and anguish washed over him like a flood.

Mike sat down next to his brother and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He felt the ripples of his siblings muscles as waves of emotion coursed through the older man. Mike only had sketchy information about what had been happening out here. He knew that FBI agents had been killed in a brutal manner and that Donnie had almost been one of them. He knew that an assassin had targeted both of his nephews so that they couldn't testify against this FBI killer. He knew that both boys had been injured seriously enough that Charlie needed surgery and Donnie was going to be off duty for at least another month but other than that he didn't really know much.

"I almost lost them, Mike; both of them."

Alan had regained some control but he had fat tears welling up in his eyes that refused to fall. He stared off into space remembering all of the things he had felt over the last several weeks. He didn't know how he had managed to keep it all together for this long and wondered faintly why he chose this moment to succumb to the fear and anxiety that he had kept at bay for so long.

"But you didn't, Alan. Donnie and Charlie are fine. They're home right now putting up with that wonderfully charming aunt of theirs."

Mike used a fair amount of sarcasm in his voice when describing Irene in an attempt to lighten Alan's mood. He didn't really know what else to say. He was never very good with words; not like Alan who was always so sure of himself. Alan was the confident one in the family and could always find just the right thing to say to put everything into perspective. Mike felt awkward trying to comfort his brother and was sure that nothing that he was saying would help but it did. A small smile spread across Alan's face as he turned to look at his brother.

"She's not all that bad, Mike"

Mike just looked at his brother with a deadpan expression, which made his Alan laugh out loud.

"Well; maybe she is, but never the less she certainly knows how to get the boys to rest and follow the doctor's orders."

The brother's got up and moved over to the conveyer belt that slowly began to fill as luggage from the flight appeared from behind the flaps separating them from the unseen bowels of the airport's baggage transport system.

"Well I, for one, am glad that you and Charlie have friends in high places. Flying first class is a whole different experience than flying coach."

By the time the elder Eppes brothers arrived back at the house Don was beyond relieved to see them. He had no desire to rest and Irene had scolded him as though he were a youngster three times when she caught him trying to leave the den.

She had finally allowed him to come out for some lunch which he at that point had no appetite for. This however did not stop Irene from literally hovering over him to make sure he ate an acceptable amount of food. Don found himself quite envious of his younger sibling who had managed to escape this fate by still sleeping soundly on the couch.

Looking at Charlie's chest rise and fall rhythmically in deep sleep from the dining room table Don actually began to feel a little worried about him. He had been asleep ever since they had come home from the hospital and that seemed wrong. He went over to rouse the younger man much to the consternation of Aunt Irene who relented only when Don said that he was concerned because of the concussion.

Don gently shook Charlie's shoulder to waken him but didn't get a response until he shook him again with a little more strength. His younger brother cracked an eye open and seemed to look around to see who had disturbed him before his gaze fell on his older brother.

"Where is she?" came the soft whisper from the recumbent man.

"She's in the kitchen. Hey have you been awake this whole time?"

Charlie opened his eyes fully and Don helped him to gingerly sit up.

"I've been dozing on and off but I feigned deep sleep anytime she came in here."

"That's not fair. I have been dealing with her all afternoon."

Charlie smiled slightly. "What's unfair bro; the fact that I thought of it or that you didn't?"

It was at that moment that the front door opened and Alan and Mike walked in. Seeing his sons sitting together on the couch smiling wiped the last vestiges of angst from Alan's heart.

* * *

Over the next three days Mike somehow managed to charm Irene, and her normally sharp nature softened somewhat much to the surprise of everyone. The agents watching the house were reassigned as the last of the arrest warrants were served on the mob family and Trip was scheduled to fly back to the east coast the next day.

Charlie's mood had remained subdued. He wasn't acting doleful any longer but he lacked his customary enthusiasm. His ribs were part of the reason for that because they seriously limited his ability to move comfortably. Larry and Amita had visited frequently as had Stan, Megan and David. On the evening of his third day home Charlie was quite surprised to get an unexpected visitor.

Alan warmly greeted Robert Thompkins when he showed up at the front door while Mike thanked him heartily for the upgrade to his plane ticket. Don was pleased to finally meet this man but found it a little difficult to be easily casual with the director of the National Security Agency. Director Thompkins spent some time talking with Don and Alan before he asked to see Charlie who had spent the last two hours sitting outside next to the Koi pond.

Don found the director had a very subtle yet extremely effective manner of obtaining information. Before he realized it Don had told this man that he had just met more things about his brother and himself than he would have thought possible. He even went into detail about the conversation that he had with Charlie that afternoon in front of their mother's grave.

Alan escorted Director Thompkins out to the yard where Charlie was sitting and quietly moved back inside to give the men some privacy. The warm evening breeze whispered softly through the branches of the Japanese Maple next to the pond. Charlie was sitting cross-legged in the grass under the little tree just staring at the large dappled fish as they moved ceaselessly through the clear water.

Bob stood there for a moment studying his young friend. To the casual observer it seemed as though the mathematician was simply sitting there enjoying a lazy summer evening but to the eyes of the man observing him, however, the scene was anything but peaceful.

Bob noticed how carefully Charlie adjusted his position making it clear that he was still experiencing quite a bit of pain from his multiple broken ribs and wondered briefly how long it had taken the young man to get himself seated on the ground.

The director had worked closely with the mathematician in the past and had observed Charlie while he was lost in thought, as he seemed to be now. The difference that struck Bob so strongly at that moment was the fact that for as long as he had know Professor Eppes even when he was at rest he was never really _still_, as he was at that moment. Charlie seemed to be missing something; an integral part of his personality was noticeably lacking.

Bob could see now why Trip and everyone else had seemed so concerned. The complete lack of frenetic energy was such a glaring absence that it stuck out like a neon sign saying 'Something's Wrong'.

"Have you found your answer yet?"

Charlie turned his head in surprise at the voice and immediately regretted it. The sudden movement sent pain racing through his chest and back but he recovered quickly.

"Bob! What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you and to talk to you about this."

Bob Thompkins hunkered down sitting next to Charlie on the grass beneath the delicate tree and handed a folded sheet of paper to the young man. It was the letter he had sent along with the disk. Charlie didn't need to open the paper; he knew what was on it.

"Answer?"

"The way you were staring at those fish it seemed as though you were waiting for an answer."

Charlie smiled a little inwardly. That wasn't so terribly far from the truth.

"Some questions don't have answers. It's like P vs. NP. There is no way to solve the problem, it just… is."

Bob took in Charlie's appearance. His face was still fairly swollen and the bruising was at its peak making him look as though he had gone a few rounds with the heavy weight champion of the world. As he sat on the ground his usually incessantly moving hands lay limp in his lap and dullness had taken up residence in his normally expressive eyes.

"You look terrible, Charlie."

"Gee, thanks."

"I distinctly remember advising you to be careful and not to tangle with these people."

Bob got no answer from Charlie so he continued.

"You know as well as I do that you could easily have been killed. Why didn't you call me? You know I would have done anything to help you, even sending someone to watch your back when you met with DiBenedetto."

Again he got no response.

"How did risking your life like that help your family? If you had been killed how would that have saved your brother or your father?"

Charlie turned his head and looked at the Director for a moment.

"I understood the risks going in, Bob. I willingly accepted them if there was a chance that I could get that contract off our heads."

Bob scrutinized his friend once more. It was clear that there was more to what was bothering Charlie and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Ok, let's say that you understood the risks and accepted them. You had a purpose in mind and you accomplished that purpose. The contract no longer exists whether it is because of the deal you made with DiBenedetto or the fact that the entire syndicate is in custody; the end result is the same. That being the case; I am having some difficulty figuring out why you are sitting here looking for answers that are unsolvable? What's still bothering you Charlie?"

"Do you believe in evil, Bob; evil as a single definable presence?"

"People can be evil; I have seen more evidence of that then any one person should. Shelley Arbury is evil, a fact that you have seen and experienced personally, but evil as an entity of some sort? I guess I'm not sure what you mean."

"Is _she_ evil or was she made into someone who is evil? If she was not evil on the day of her birth, yet she is now where did that evil come from? Can evil be defined as a compilation of experiences that twist a soul into what Shelley Arbury is now? If that is the case then can't it be argued that evil is an actual definable presence? Is evil something that can be measured or predicted?"

"I don't believe that evil is something that can be predicted. I have seen so many examples of people who have experienced unbelievable horrors in their lives and yet they overcame those experiences and became stronger more caring people. I have also seen people who have become angry twisted bitter individuals who lash out at an unfair world for the perceived wrongs it has afflicted upon them. There is no real way to predict human behavior or the way in which people will handle traumatic experiences."

Charlie continued to stare at the Koi and heaved a small sigh. Bob could see that the young man was thinking about what he had said and trying to reconcile that with whatever internal demons he was struggling with.

"I guess the question is; which kind of person am I. I have known true hatred; I have felt it. I didn't just want to see her dead, Bob. I wanted to kill her myself! I didn't consider the ramifications to innocent lives when I decided to blackmail Alto DiBenedetto. When I found out that his nephew, the man who had hired the hit man to kill Don and me, had been stealing from him I didn't hesitate to use that information to broker a deal with DiBenedetto. I knew perfectly well that once Alto found out what his nephew had done he would kill him."

"You do realize that I have read every file associated with this case don't you? You had a perfect opportunity to kill Shelley Arbury and it would have been a clear case of defense. She was about to stab your brother. She raised that knife to plunge it into your brother's chest and you acted on instinct. You shot the arm holding the knife but you didn't kill her. As for your deal with DiBenedetto; outside of it being a very dangerous thing that you did, I don't view your actions as wrong or even immoral. These men were trying to kill you and your family. A nearly successful attempt on your brother had already been made. You did the only thing you could to save your family, but you know this, so what is the problem?"

"The problem is the fact that if I had it all to do over again I would make the same choices. I would still give that disk to DiBenedetto knowing full well that he would kill his nephew.  
The problem is that when we go to trial and Shelley Arbury is sentenced to death I will be there to watch her die and I'm not bothered by that. I know that there is a large part of me that actually looks forward to it.  
The problem is my heart has turned cold and I don't know how to feel anymore. I'm not the same person I was before all of this started. All experiences in life will effect a change in us; I'm just not sure I like the person I have changed into."

Bob watched Charlie as he spoke and saw how each statement seemed to weigh more heavily on his friend than the last. This was a question of morality and it was not going to be easy for the logically minded professor to come to terms with these raw human emotions.

"Your moral obligation was and is to yourself and your family Charlie, not to Alto DiBenedetto, Anthony Saborgia, or Shelley Arbury. You feel anger, rage and the desire for revenge just as these dissolute people do too but there is a difference between them and you."

Charlie looked at his friend not really believing those words. The only real difference that he saw between himself and the people he was comparing himself to was the fact that he hadn't actually purposely killed anyone. Not directly anyway.

"Do you really think that Alto DiBenedetto or Shelley Arbury are sitting in their cells bemoaning the fact that they have destroyed so many lives? Do you think that either of them has lost a moment's sleep feeling guilty for the atrocities that they have committed? That is the difference between you, Charlie. You have spent the last week questioning your own morality. You have a conscience that is telling you the difference between what's right and wrong.  
You asked me if I believed in evil as a definable presence. Evil is the absence of conscience. Shelley has no conscience, nor does Alto DiBenedetto, and because of that lack of conscience we see in these people the manifestation of evil. So I guess in answer to that question; yes I do believe in evil, but I **do not** believe that _you_ are evil, or that you are becoming evil. You're struggle with this proves beyond any doubt that you're conscience is fully intact and functioning. Just because you are experiencing the uglier side of human emotion; rage, revenge and hate does not make you a monster, it simply makes you human."

Bob thought that he might have gotten through to Charlie because the young man's eyes took on a thoughtful expression.

"I'm tired, Bob; tired of feeling this way. I'm not sure I can go through a trial. I don't know if I can get up there on the stand and testify to everything that she has done. I don't want to relive all of this again; I don't want to _live_ it anymore. I don't want to find out what it will feel like to see Shelley Arbury charged, sentenced and then put to death. These emotions that I'm feeling may be part of human nature but they scare me. The fact that I can even feel this way scares me. I want this whole thing to be over but it's not and it won't be for a long time."

"Charlie, don't worry about the trial. That is months away. For right now, it _is_ over. Now is your time to heal and recover. Leave tomorrow to tomorrow and you will find that when the time comes you will have the strength and resolve to get through it."

Charlie looked at Bob and for the first time the director saw the dullness fade and some life return to his young friend's eyes.

"Thanks, Bob, for everything."

"I am always here for you, Charlie. I hope you know that."

"You certainly have proven that over that last few weeks. I really am grateful for everything that you did to help us, but now can you do one more favor for me?"

"Sure."

"Can you help me get up?"

Charlie smiled at this but he was quite serious about needing help. Bob helped Charlie get to his feet with quite a bit of difficulty. The young man had become so stiff that he couldn't move very well and had confided in Bob that he had tried to get up a couple of times before he came out to see him but had been unable to manage it on his own.

Bob Thompkins stayed in LA for two days. He visited Colby Granger along with Don and Charlie. The grafting surgery had gone well but there was some doubt as to whether or not he would recover enough to go back to field duty. Only thirty percent of one side of his back was affected but that still amounted to a fairly large area of damage. Colby's father had stayed by his side the entire time and had spent a good portion of that time trying to convince his son to quit the FBI and move back home.

Director Thompkins left his card and told Colby that if he ever did decided to leave the FBI he would be welcome to come to Baltimore and work with the NSA. Granted that wasn't home but he could find challenging work that didn't require the same level of physical activity as a field agent for the FBI.

Charlie's mood improved after his talk with Bob Thompkins and both Alan and Don were thankful that he had come to speak with him. Alan's biggest concern about his son's emotional state was his upcoming surgery. He knew from long experience that having a positive outlook was sometimes essential to the outcome of a surgical procedure.

Aunt Irene stayed until Charlie had his surgery and had been home recovering from that for three days before she went home. Mike had to go back to New York and after a total of three weeks of helpful relatives and friends all of the Eppes men were glad for a little peace and quiet around the house.

Both Don and Charlie had recovered enough to reclaim their old rooms and both had also agreed to go to PTSD counseling together. Don expected to be back on the job within two more weeks and Charlie would be able to resume teaching by mid semester.

The only black cloud, at this point, that hung over their heads was the upcoming trial. The DA's office had an extremely strong case against Shelley Arbury who was now being represented by a public defender. Her lawyer had abandoned her case right after the raid on Saborgia's mansion claiming that she did not have the funds to continue to retain his services.

Becky had been transferred to the county jail and through a screw up in cell block assignments she ended up placed in the same block as Shelley. As soon as the DA's office got wind of this they immediately tried to have the women separated but by the time a transfer order had been processed it was too late.

Rebecca Cantor had made a shiv and hidden it in her clothing and waited for her chance. In the middle of the mess hall Rebecca stabbed Shelley Arbury to death in full view of all of the other inmates and guards. Rebecca was disarmed and moved to solitary confinement where she will remain until she is arraigned on murder charges.

The news of Shelley Arbury's death affected all of the Eppes men differently. Alan was relieved that his sons would not have to go through a trial and be forced to relive the horrible things that this woman had done to them.

Don's first thought was that she got what she deserved and then his thoughts focused on Rebecca. He couldn't help feeling sorry for this woman. Her cousin had destroyed her life from the time they were children and now that she was finally free of Shelley she would spend the rest of her life behind bars.

Charlie didn't know how to feel. The counseling that he and Don were attending had helped him to gain some perspective on the whole situation. The fact that he was going through this experience with his brother was more of a catalyst for recovery than anything else, but he found his senses reeling with the news that Shelley was dead. Could this all be over with? There would be no trial now, at least not which concerned him or his family directly. A part of him felt cheated somehow, but he clamped down on that emotion quickly.

He and Don had a session the afternoon after they got the news about Shelley. The last thing Charlie wanted to do was to sabotage his recovery efforts but he found it difficult to talk about what he was feeling. Even after everything that his brother, Bob Thompkins and his friends had told him he still felt as if he were treading a dangerous emotional path.

The pure and simple fact that a small part of him still wanted to watch her suffer her fate bothered him and stirred the now familiar sense of an impending anxiety attack. It had been weeks since he had had an actual attack. He was still taking the antidepressant and anti anxiety medications but at a far smaller dose than what had previously been prescribed.

Once again Charlie found his greatest solace in his brother. Don did not look down on Charlie for what he was feeling, and as a matter of fact admitted to similar feelings in the matter.

"Charlie, what you're feeling isn't wrong or even bad. It's normal. That woman put both of us through hell and it is only natural to want to witness the payback. It's like the old saying 'What goes around comes around' It's just that you are very rarely actually there to see it come around. I will admit that I would have like to see them put that needle in her arm; to look her in the eye as she died for her what she did. Does that make me sick or twisted? Maybe; maybe not. What it _does_ make me is human, just like you little brother."

Don threw his arm around Charlie's shoulder as they walked back to his car. It was a beautiful day and they didn't have any more appointments until the following week so instead of driving them back to the house Don headed down the coast.

"Hey Charlie, lets get some ice cream. We'll take our shoes off and walk in the waves along the shore. We can wash all of this away, you know like sort of being reborn or baptized or something. I know that sounds a little hokey but sometimes feeling the sand under my feet and the water splashing up my legs makes me feel kind of like we did when we were kids; care free and innocent. I think we could both use a dose of that right now, don't you?"

"That sounds like a good plan."

The End

* * *

Well one year and one moth later we reach the end of our journey. I thank each and every one of you who have stuck with me for so long. At the end of the last story I wrote I did a page where I personally thanked each reviewer but this story had well over 550 reviews so that isn't really practical. I will put out a request to anyone who might be interested in beta reviewing /editing this tale. I did have one lady offer to do that but after I sent her the first half of the story I never heard back from her. I can sort of understand. I mean this thing is as big as a full length novel!  
I am now going to dedicate my time and energy into finishing the first fan fiction I ever wrote and still have not completed. It is a Harry Potter piece that is as large if not larger than this one. That being the case it will probably be a little while before I write another Numb3rs fic.  
BUT  
Outaknowbetter and I have been toying with a collaboration Numb3rs piece but real life and other obligations keep getting in the way, but look for that one at some point in the future. On the topic of Numb3rs fics,  
ALSO  
I actually dreamed a plot snippet this morning after I got out of work. It has Charlie and Don on a hiking trip. There is a land slide and a hurt Don with Charlie being the only one who can get them out and back to safety. Hmmm. Maybe I'll dream the next bit tomorrow morning.  
If anyone is interested I think I have come up with a good idea for an original piece that I might even be able to submit for publication. Would any of you read a story centered on Shelley and Rebecca? My idea is to go back to their childhood and write their story all the way up to when Rebecca murder's her cousin in jail. Any reference to Numbers characters would of course be completely omitted and it would probably be told from Rebecca's point of view. If that does start coming to fruition I will post it on my website but no where else.

Well my wonderful friends I have truly enjoyed writing this tale for you and I am so happy that you have enjoyed reading it. Have a wonderful summer and feel peace.

Sincerely yours,  
Alice I


End file.
